The rain came down and washed the snow away. It's amazing how quickly it goes. But I was struck with how thankful I am that the blood which makes me whiter than the snow cannot be washed away. The landscape turns from pristinely white to mottled browns and greens, but as for me, I've gone from lifeless drab to snowy white.
Lord Jesus, for this I most humbly entreat,
I wait, blessèd Lord, at Thy crucified feet.
By faith, for my cleansing, I see Thy blood flow,
Now wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
James L. Nicholson,
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