White from grey Life from death

Spring is coo coo, two days ago it was 74 and today it is hailing.
The sound of the hail came hitting the house and grew in intensity, then plink it was gone.
The sound reminds me of the rain that splats loud on the huge skunk cabbage and Devils club leaves in Alaska. I like the sound of it, if you listen into it you can hear high and low notes and since there is a gazillion drops it becomes a symphony of music.
There is all types of rain for example there is dancing rain. As a child I remember dancing in a spring rain squall, the sudden onset backed by bright sunshine made me feel like dancing in it's glee.
There is dark rain where one desires nothing more than to hunker by the fireside.
I have memories of feeling grateful for protection when the rain beats on a metal roof or as a boyscout at the ocean, inside my little pup tent I was safe.
Ive seen it rain so hard in Alaska that raindrops bounce a foot in the air after they hit the tin roof and I have seen the fresh water cover the salt water in the inlet.
As a kid I remember feeling like a man on a stormy day, wind and rain beating against me as I went to get firewood.
Out on the water, fishing ,the rain and wind hit with such force I swear you can hear the rain splatting on my bald head.
And then there is grey drizzle, the worst kind, day after day the same grey.
It reminds of that verse "you are neither hot nor cold." the old luke warm that drives you nuts.
The different rains and their sounds is an allegory of life so many different movements . What I like is the one that changes everything, that is when the rain changes into snow. Millions of snow flakes land in silence covering all the scars and dead colors of winter.How can snow so white come from grey clouds?
All the previous sharp contours are rounded in humps of white snow.
Every limb, fence railing, automobile is laiden deeper and deeper with each passing hour. Then the sun breaks out and the sparkling white becomes a magnificent splendor.
I love the silence of the snow, the sounds of cars are dampened. The forest is suspended in this blanket of snow. The only muffled sound is the scrunching your feet are making.
It is a time when I like to go out and be alone, for it seems the snow has stopped time and man cannot manipulate it.
It is a time to live in the Christ who has covered everything with his life. And everything is everything.
A time to forget the scars buried under the snow and behold the new blanket of Christ that covers it. white, pure, unique each flake different.
New eyes Father, new eyes, to see life through your eyes.
I have seen darkness, Ive seen relentless grey and I have seen my Heavenly Father turn that world to white splendor by who he is.
White and bright always trumps darkness and gloom.
I stand alone on a high point. Before my GOD baring all I am, what little I am, and accept all that he is, how huge that he is,, and I walk home a different man.
More of him less of me.