It smells like snow.

An indescribable sent, but one that bring rest to my soul and the upward tilt of my lips as the sent of snow flows through my nose. 

Taken on 1/2012

I should by all means not enjoy snow.  Here in Maine the snow season is the last three months of the year and the first three months of the next.  For one with taunting manic-depression like mine the combination of snow, short days, and being locked inside should reeks havoc on my mind, bringing anything but rest to me.  And yet snow brings:

A sigh of relief. 
A knowledge that I am loved. 
An understanding of how small I am and a glimpse of how Big the Maker is.
A hope to one day be completely purified, a purification only Jesus can give.
The rest of knowing my filth and death has been wiped clean by Jesus' blood.

Ah, to sit wrapped in a blanket sipping hot tea as I watch the white flakes fall to the ground.  Resting in Grace.

"Come now let us reason together," Says the LORD, "Though your sins are as scarlet, they will be as white as snow; though they are like crimson, they will be like wool."

~ Isaiah 1:18