Joyless or Joyful

The snow has finally arrived here in the South, and now folks are wondering if DoorDash is delivering. The roads are completely covered, but that won’t stop the questions. Typical southerners. I’m sure all the bread and milk they ravaged from the shelves last weekend are long gone.

Still, the snow is beautiful. Peaceful.

As it falls, my thoughts drift to my son-in-law, locked away and missing it all. Every time it snowed, he took his son sledding. He’s a kid at heart. Since August of 2025, he’s been held behind bars unnecessarily—robbed of simple joys: snowmen, laughter, and memories that can never be recreated.

Time doesn’t stand still. What’s lost is not returned.

So in this season, he waits. We wait. An army stands behind him. God is doing a mighty work in his life, and for that I am grateful. Still, the void on the outside can be unbearable. We miss him.

Too often, we assume life will always be good—until one incident, one person, tries to steal that joy. He hasn’t allowed that to happen. Through it all, he has remained encouraging and positive. His heart has changed. He has found peace. But his peace looks different from those on the outside who hold the keys to his release.

Every snowflake that falls is unique—God’s intricate masterpiece, carefully designed. I watch them and marvel at their beauty.

We are much the same. To some, snow brings chaos and disruption. To others, it brings peace, beauty, and purpose. However you choose to see it as the flakes fall, be thankful that you can.

And never—ever—let anyone melt your snow.