Snow Crystals


Snow crystals and dried roses on my Volvo in Massachusetts

One of my favorite works of art are snow crystals. So much fine beauty and detail in something that, for the most part, floats in the air and melts upon contact with earth. They are too delicate for this world, but God loves us, so he shares them with us. They are a gift. One that goes largely unnoticed. That is the task of the artist. To remind mankind of beauty and the true nature of what it means to be alive.

Being alive is as simple as noticing the snow crystals as they fall.

A great mind, born deaf and blind, Helen Keller once said, “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.”

If you are to know beauty, you must have a living, beating heart. Alas, the Bible says that, ‘Due to the increase in wickedness, the love of most will grow cold.’ And if you really look around, past the protest signs and talks of love trumping hate, you will see a world largely cold and devoid of warmth and love. All this talk of love is just more deception by the great deceiver, Satan. He surely does not want love to thrive, he just wants to deceive us into believing that he and his minions do. This is his domain, remember.

But, God, in his great mercy, follows this dismal passage with immediate hope. ‘But the one who perseveres to the end will be saved. And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in all the world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come.…’ All I have to do is persevere. OK. I can do that.

I was witness to a terrible atrocity yesterday that brought this verse to mind. The coldness and apathy I witnessed towards a small child. A child who had fallen badly while playing. The cold, disingenuous manner towards her was worse than someone who would just pass her by. Do not ever come to me with that false pretense of caring. I will rip your head off.

The tragedy inspired this song, A Thousand Times, where I cry to the heavens, “I would rather die a thousand times than be made of ice.” May our Father hear me in my ardent song of prayer. Long live the flame.

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