I can’t help it, I love snow. I love it. While this isn’t an official ode to snow because I do not write lyrical poetry, I believe that if I were to start, I would start with snow.

I know that not all of us feel this way. I am sympathetic to those who do not share my affinity for snow and am aware of the dangers it can pose. However, considering everyone to be safe and warm, with all of the groceries they need, I love a good snow day. 

Perhaps it is from growing up in Asheville and having several stints of weeklong “snow days”. I think most kids appreciate being off from school, and I was certainly one of them. I loved the gift of being at home with my family watching the snow fall and all of us relaxing into some quality time.

In the seventh grade, my sister and I spent two weeks trapped inside defeating the “Special Worlds” in Super Mario Brothers. We settled in downstairs in our basement and spent hours upon hours focused on beating this game. We lost all track of time, accomplished our goal, and I hope, ate at least a few things that had some nutritional value. I highly doubt the last one, but we did make some great memories.

While snow has created some conditions for great memories, I also appreciate the peace and quiet it brings. When we woke up on Saturday morning, all was quiet. The jets stopped flying over our house. No one was driving through the neighborhood. The birds weren’t chirping. I knew it had snowed!

On top of the beautiful snow, we are often, at least here in North Carolina, gifted with a “snow day.” If you were to ask me how I know how God loves me, I would tell you that, among many things, I met and married my wonderful husband Stephen this year, and secondarily, that God gives us snow days. I very much appreciate and feel fulfilled by my work and schedule, it is not about that. Snow days, in my personal theology, are a gift from God. No expectations. No plans. Just grace. They are so beautiful.

In taking a walk in the evening as it was coming down, it glittered in the street lights. It is the most obvious reminder of God’s ongoing creation. I wondered how there really could be so many variations. Each snowflake is actually different. I have looked it up several times. That is creation happening in front of our very eyes.

Then, I wondered that there must be some kingdom connection here too. In scripture, there are so many parables, portents, and descriptions of the kingdom of God. Some are described as quietly coming like the mustard seed and leaven (Matthew 13), seed on the ground (Mark 4), or treasure hidden in a field (Matthew 13). Could the kingdom of God start like a snowflake?

Drawing from our Lutheran theology, the coming of the kingdom of God could be compared to snowfall in the way it arrives from outside ourselves. It is a pure gift, like salvation. Even when we dance our snow dance and flush ice cubes down the drain, snow does not come by human effort; it falls freely from heaven, covering the ground regardless of merit or preparedness. Just as snow blankets fields unevenly yet decisively, the kingdom comes where and when God wills, hidden under ordinary forms: preached words, water, bread, and wine. This reflects Luther’s emphasis on God working through humble, earthly means rather than visible power or glory.

Snow also illustrates the Lutheran tension of the kingdom as already and not yet. When snow falls, the landscape is truly changed—quieted, brightened, renewed—yet it will melt, revealing that the transformation is not final. In the same way, God’s kingdom is genuinely present now in forgiveness, faith, and Christ’s reign in the believer’s life, yet it remains incomplete until the final restoration of all things. We await for Christ to come again.

If the kingdom can come like snow, it helps us to see with hearts not of fear, but of delight. When the kingdom fully comes, I hope it will be like waking up and seeing a beautiful transformation of life that is filled with hope and promise…without the cold, and the slush that is to come. It is a fleeting idea, but one that can speak to it for a moment.

Anyway, these were my theological musings during the snow. I hope you had a blessed snow day and maybe even built a snowman!