It's snowing in London this morning. The first snow of the season! I should laugh at the absurdity of it. Easter normally stirs up thoughts of spring and flowers and sun, but Easter weekend snow seems to follow me wherever I go--Denver, Reno, and now London.

Then I remember a promise as pure as the cleansing flakes falling outside my window:

"Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool." Isaiah 1.18

He is risen!

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