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!