A Rebellious Storm

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I’ve found myself shoveling in the midst of yet another Maine winter. Snowbanks and heavy pines frame the scenery for four months of the year, a canvas freshly painted by the frequent storms. Naturally, it’s quite entrancing to watch a snowfall from the comfort of a warm leather sofa. Hot coffee and warm cookies are essential as they keep you alert for the most curious happenings of a storm. Every once in a while the snow will actually cease falling and retreat into the sky. Of course, the entire tempest doesn’t operate in one accord, but there are pockets that suddenly defy gravity before surrendering once again. These rebellious groups of frosty flakes remind me of the promises we hold in Christ, of being transformed rather than conformed.

The power to rise while its companions fall is not within the snowflake itself, but is born of a greater, unseen power. The wind is in motion and seemingly captures those who are willing. The colony of crystals dance in their own, new way, contrasting the world around them. It’s peculiar to observe and often happens too quickly to share with others. And so friends are invited to sit, watch, and wait in hopes of spotting the next occurrence.

I’ve noticed the smallest snowflakes are most vulnerable to the reversal of their brief life’s direction – those that have little bearing on the storm at large and are least invested in the physical world. Conversely, the weightier flakes of substance are far less moveable, determined to follow their own path, disregarding all forces but the one that brings them down. Though all snowflakes share a certain demise, their journeys differ, each path unique.

In this season, may we be rebellious in all the right ways.

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