The Prospect of Snow

The anticipation in the air is so thick we could cut it with a snowball, and fully intend to as soon as the long awaited first snowfall of the season materializes. All week, we have been racing to get the newspaper and smacking open to the weather page, running our finger along the line of pictures depicting the weather for the week. Our finger jabs at Friday where little white snowflakes cover the looking glass square. Snow! Each day we gaze excitedly at each other. We are still on for snow on Friday!

I am fairly certain the folks in North Dakota, or Chicago, or Minnesota are not drunk with delight with goofy grins pasted on their faces over the prospect of snow. But here, in relatively balmy Charlotte, we are gleeful. We have already raced up to the attic and pulled down the snow tubes. The duct tape boots Asherel so lovingly constructed stand by the door ready to be leapt into. I have lined up the cross country skis and carefully placed the proper poles and boots next to each pair. We already have on our heavy wool mittens, parkas, and ski caps, and sit by the door ..... waiting..... sweltering...... sweat dripping down our nose. The house is fully stocked with toilet paper and milk. We have chestnuts ready to roast on an open fire. All we need now is the snow to commence falling.

I hear a muffled sound from the swathed -in- down figure next to me.
"Speak louder," I say,"Or move the sled away from your mouth."
"Just how much snow is expected?" she carefully ennunciates.
"At least half an inch," I say, "Now don't speak anymore, we may miss a flake."
We both turn our full attention again to the window, which is currently filled not with frost, but warm sunshine.
"I thought the snow wasn't coming til tomorrow," murmurs the child beside me through layers of woolen scarf wrapped several times around her neck to keep the snow from chilling her vital cervical spine.
"Do you want to miss it?" I snap, "You know all good things come to those who wait."
We turn our attention again to the window, and look hopefully for grey skies, shivering birds, and the glorious dandruff of the clouds.

I have discovered that much of the joy of life is in anticipating what lies ahead. So often, what transpires in reality falls short of what we hope and dream for, but I am an eternal optimist, and just know that the next day will bring that elusive perfection. And really, it probably won't, but there is something worth longing forth, worth waiting for, that will not disappoint. The future glory of standing before God in Heaven shimmering with perfection is in the corner of my eye.
I sit before the window of heaven, gazing in with eager expectation.

Romans 8:18
¹⁸I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. ¹⁹The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed.