Snow

 

January 18, 2022

Photography as a spiritual practice.

I was inspired to make photography my spiritual practice for my first internship during my studies at University of Dubuque Theological Seminary after I had received an email from the Presbyterian Outlook about a webinar they would host called, “Glimpsing Imago Dei: Photography as a Spiritual Practice” with Rev. Jonathon C. Watson. Here is my first entry.

Growing up in Michigan, I know winter. I know it inside and out. Frankly, I would rather be inside, literally, where I can stay warm, than out in the cold and snow. When Mike and I married in 2007 it didn’t take him long to convince me we needed to move south in search of warmer weather. We settled on Anderson, South Carolina. While I wanted nothing to do with “wind chills” and “lake effect snow”, I also did not want anything to do with hurricanes. Anderson is almost as far inland and away from the coast as you can go in South Carolina.

Snow in Anderson is an event. Just the threat of it causes people to race to the grocery store for milk and bread. Everything shuts down...Everything. Those who grew up in the south seem to love the snow that I so despise. While I shut myself indoors to watch tv, read a book, or clean the house, my southern friends are out sledding on an inch of snow and making snowmen out of slush.

This past Saturday night, while we all slept, the snow started falling and by Sunday morning it had turned to freezing rain, then snow again with wind gusts up to fifty miles an hour. Ugh, I curled up in my blanket and streamed movies all day, while listening to the wind and ice beat against the house. Mike would say to me, “we didn’t move far enough south”. At that time, I agreed.

But Monday morning, when the ugly skies of Sunday were gone and the sun rose, glistening on the snow, I remembered. I remembered what I loved about winter in Michigan. It was after a fresh blanket of snow; the sun would come out and it would be beautiful. This Monday, I bundled up ready to brave the cold morning air. I took a walk around the yard taking pictures of the sun and the snow and the flowers (real and fake). I was reminded of the hymn by Thomas Chisholm, “Great Is Thy Faithfulness”.

The second verse says, “Summer and winter, and springtime and harvest, Sun, moon and stars in their courses above, Join with all nature in manifold witness, To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.”

Through the storms, whatever they may be, God is faithful to us. There are times when the wind whips us so hard that we cannot bear to stand. All we want to do is curl up under a blanket and hide ourselves from the world. But the following day when the sun rises, we are reminded that God is faithful. He is with us through the good, the bad, the ugly, the snow and ice storms and the beautiful sunny mornings. And ALL of nature cries out in witness to His faithfulness.