Today, my husband remarks that we might get thundersnow this week.
"You're making that up," I laugh. "What in the world is thundersnow?"
"When you get a thunderstorm, but instead of rain, it snows. It's a real thing. Thundersnow. David the meteorologist told me."
All day, I think about this phenomenon. I imagine the colossal boom and roar of thunder coupled with the dainty, delicate fluff of snowfall that melts and dissolves on my fingertips. I'm laughing just imagining it. I want to race out into the fear and terror and find the gentle wonder of snow falling all around me.
The shout of thunder and the silence of snow come all at once.
Is God like this? A beautiful thundersnow of contradiction? A sublime moment of daunting delight? We laugh and dance about in the fragile flakes, even as a storm's voice echoes.
When that baby came to the manger, surely, it thundersnowed.
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Have you ever been in a thundersnow storm?
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