When I next looked out the window, about an hour later, I noticed about ½ inch of the white flakes covering my front sidewalk. Before long, the flakes grew fat and full, filling the sky with a flurry of white. The snow fell so thickly I could barely see the buildings across the street. By day’s end, five inches of snow coated my yard, the driveway, and the street in a spotless blanket of white.
On the evening news, forecasters predicted more snow overnight. They were right. When I looked out the window in the morning, I could hardly believe my eyes. Every surface on our patio sported huge mounds of white, towering like volcanoes into the wintry day. One of the two steps down to our patio had completely disappeared, buried under white crystals. Eight more inches had fallen overnight and more fell that afternoon, giving us a total snowfall of over 14 inches.
That afternoon I tramped around the yard in knee-deep snow, trying to capture the beauty of the white-frosted yard with my digital camera. Everywhere I looked my eyes feasted on loveliness. As my boots sank through the snow, I noticed the lack of noise. The snow muffled sound as if the whole neighborhood were wrapped in a fluffy cocoon.
The world slowed. Schools cancelled classes, meeting dates changed, businesses closed. For a few days our winter-wrapped world was muted. Still. Slow. Quiet enough to hear the tiniest of whispers.
Only when I allow my soul to be still can I hear the voice of God’s heart whispers. When I first take time for solitude, I later hear that still, small voice through the busiest and loudest of circumstances.
Father God, still me. Slow me down. Let me listen to your soul whispers.
Psalm 46:10a “Be still and know that I am God.”