My sister sent this reflection to me this morning.
Her words made me sit down, pause, and linger.
It was just what I needed — maybe you need it, too.

He will quiet you with his love.
Zephaniah 3:17

The 5 day old snowfall of 6” is still clinging to the trees and bushes. It was a wet heavy snow which stuck to everything it touched. Usually the wind or the sun that follows a snowfall shortens the life of the accumulated flakes on the branches. Not so this time. Though the trees on higher ground have lost their coating, the trees and bushes in the valleys and in more protected areas are still clothed in snow, defining every branch with white outlines. Beautiful art in the middle of a colorless and gray December. The clouds turn the woods into a black and white photo. The silence of a snow-cloaked woods is complete and extremely peaceful. It beckons to us to come away from the noise of our living, to soak up the calm, the stillness, the lack of activity and movement. Listening to the quietness is a balm to our souls.

In our daily living, we experience highs and lows, mountain tops and valleys. When we are in the valleys, our God protects us and clothes us with his love. Every nuance of us is defined with his beautiful touch. He silences the noise and provides a quiet place for us to heal, to re-energize. 

This is 2020 – need I say more? 

We have spent 10 months of this stormy year in the valley. We have searched for the quiet amid the chaos, the healing in the middle of a relentless illness, the renewal of energy as we face long days at long distances from each other. We need connectivity, touch, relationship, acceptance, love. Yet, in an unexpected way, the valley has protected us, for this is where God reaches us. This is where he covers us with his love.

Eventually, the snow will melt or fall to the ground; the black and white beauty will dissolve into a grayness, exposing the branches to the next storm. Eventually, our stormy year will recede and fade into the background, a gray shadow in our memories. But I know that with the next inevitable storm, God will meet us there in the stillness and clothe us with his protective love again.

*Guest post by Robin Masters