I snuggled under my electric blanket last night and viewed a Christmas classic. Bing Crosby’s White Christmas was the perfect choice; my husband joined me and the sights and sounds of Christmas were as fresh as new fallen snow on a Central New York Christmas Eve.
As a young girl living in the rural area outside of Syracuse, I had the joy and excitement of many white Christmas.’ I will be the first to admit snow is not always joy to residents in that area. Early morning risers must shovel or plow snow covered roads, sidewalks and driveways.
Highways and Interstates become danger zones; travelers are involved in vehicle accidents and easily become stranded in sub-zero temperatures in the midst of towering snowdrifts. Dazzling white snow becomes brown slush and New Yorkers fantasize a Florida winter home.
A pure heart is no fantasy… “Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me and I will be whiter than snow (Psalm 51:7 NIV).” I remember very clearly babie’s first Christmas; I was born again in the autumn of 1967. The Lord gave the gift of a clean heart and my white Christmas!