Today there were snow showers in my town. This pic doesn’t really do it justice, but at least you can see some of the flakes. Now, I have to admit, I’m not the biggest fan of winter. I don’t like the cold. I don’t like that it gets dark so early. I don’t like snow…or at least, I don’t like it once the novelty of it has faded.

For now, the snow is still novel. There is something beautiful about the changing of the seasons. There is something magical about it. In one sense it is utterly ordinary: every year at this time the snow flies. It’s going to happen sometime in November in this part of the world, without a doubt. And yet there is mystery to it – I certainly didn’t expect that snow would be part of today’s story.

There’s something about the change of each season. The first snow of winter. The first crocus of Spring. The first warm day of summer. The first blush of colour in the maple trees of fall. Each time I stop to notice a new season I feel the hand of God at work in our world.

I am reminded of a Nicole Nordeman song that I have loved for years, entitled “Every Season.” Take a moment and check it out here.