So when December 20 rolled around and the Mayan apocalypse was looming over my Christmas cheer, I couldn't believe my luck. Could it be? Could we really have a white Christmas? Or would my white Christmas turn green and leave me blue as I spent another year being foiled by Global Warming's cruel sense of humour.
Sugar plum fairies turned to snow fairies, and my mind began drifting off into hypothetical snowbanks. I wanted my world to transform into the White Witch's castle in the Chronicles of Narnia. I wanted to wake up to a world glistening white and clean and magical.
Imagine my delight when, on Christmas morning, my hometown awoke to a white world. Fresh snow glittered in the morning sun. I am sure that if Christ hadn't been born in Bethlehem, the Nativity scene would absolutely have snow. Because for me, the glory of the Lord shines through each snowflake - unique, complex, magical.
And so I dream of white Christmases. I think it is because when I look at snow, and see the world transforming from bleak and dirty into pure and white, Frost's ministry whisks my heart away and I hear the angels proclaiming 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth; peace and goodwill to men.' In fact, I see snow and I hear this:
Sometimes I can be such a romantic.
Speaking of romance, check out the [my] piano.
I guess I am thankful that the Mayan apocalypse didn't get in the way of my favourite holiday. I am also pretty thankful that Global Warming kept her cruel sense of humour away from me this year. I don't think my inner kid-in-the-Barbie-aisle-of-Walmart could have managed another green Christmas. I might have ended up singing Elvis Presley's Blue Christmas to the snow, and that would have been awkward and terrible for everyone.
It's lovely weather...
May you and yours be blessed this Christmas season.