I Can Smell Snow

One of the few things that Lorelai Gilmore and I have in common is our love of snow, as well as our ability to predict snow with our sense of smell. It's hard to describe this ability; it's kind of one of those things where you have to have it to know what I'm talking about.

The smell of snow is as unique and timeless as the smell of an old book. And the experience is unique to every person. Some people smell an old book and can smell the history, the era, the nostalgia. Others smell an old book and only catch whiffs of mildew and must.

It's the same with the smell of snow about to fall from the sky. To some, the smell of the air seems crisper, colder, and clearer, while to others the air smells like water tastes- like nothing. Now, my honker isn't as good as Lorelai's, but I can still smell snow a few days out. And it's my favorite thing.

I appreciate snow in a way that few people can. In a way, snow makes the world feel smaller, safer, and less overwhelming. It creates breaks in my view that my brain greatly appreciates. Since the type of anxiety I have is agoraphobia, I  get overwhelmed by large, open spaces, so having a smaller, snowy world makes it feel more manageable. When every surface is covered by snow, that's when I can start living my life.

As you can probably tell from some previous blogposts, I haven't really been living my life lately. My brain, and entire body to be honest, have been so overwhelmed by anxiety that I just stopped living.

Every sound, every light, if someone's talking too fast or rushing about; everything seems to overwhelm me anymore. Even writing this blogpost was a chore, not because I didn't want to write it, but because my anxiety made me feel as if I couldn't.

I've been stuck in place for a few weeks because of this feeling of "I can't":

- I can't go to the store, what if I have a panic attack there?
- I can't try that craft project, what if it doesn't turn our like I expect?
- I can't move on with my life, what if the future's not like I dreamed?

My goal for the next few months is to work at overcoming these feelings of "I can't" and "what if" by doing the things that terrify my anxious brain, one teeny-tiny step at a time.

But enough about progress, let's get back to snow. Like I said, the way I experience snow is unique. Not only can I smell its arrival, but when it does arrive, I am immensely grateful. Snow gives me a safety and security that few things can. Except, perhaps, the hope of Christ.

For those that are not Christians, the hope of Christ sounds ridiculous and unrealistic. And for good reason- it kind of is. I mean, in a world as chock full of sin and disaster as ours, having hope of redemption, unconditional love for all, and eternal life sound completely far fetched.

But God doesn't expect us to believe this all in our own strength; no, He gives us our belief through His Holy Spirit. All we have to give Him is a willing heart.

Just as my relationship with snow is a unique experience, so too is the hope of Christ. You have to have it to know what all of us crazy Christians are talking about. And even then, all Christians have a unique experience when they receive that hope and let it permeate their lives.

For me, holding onto the hope of Christ has been quite a journey. If fact, I would say that I didn't fully grasp it until three or four months ago when I had the worst panic attack of my life.

Ever since I was five, I believed that if I was a Christian, Christ lived in my heart and that when I died, I would go to Heaven. That was easy to believe growing up in the church and living a life that didn't force me to have my life on the line.

But when I got to high school, something changed. I have no idea what, but all of a sudden, I was completely anxious and terrified of anything that could kill me.

I washed my hands three times before meals, slept with the light on, and was constantly checking the sky. Jesus's second coming scare me, because of all the new experiences and having to live forever. I think I was also unsure of my faith and Christianity.

But, the summer after my sophomore year, I rededicated my life to Christ due to some things that had been happening in my life (story linked here). And it was great; I was on a spiritual high for months. But then I crashed down from my high and went back to all my anxious habits, getting worse and worse as time went on. I was trying to be in control of my life and my faith, but as I've found, that doesn't work.

My anxiety blew up in my face during the fall a few months ago during the worst panic attack I'd ever had (story linked here). And while I was trapped in my bed, too anxious to go downstairs, I rediscovered the hope of Christ, slowly but surely.

I began to understand it in a way I never had before, and the truth of it settled deep in my core, right above my belly button.

That isn't to say I haven't had any setbacks. Anxiety is a powerful enemy. I've had times where I've doubted God's timing and His plan for me, and I've beat myself up over all the things I gave up because of anxiety.

But in a way that's basically inexplicable, God, through His Holy Spirit, has reminded me that I am loved, I am redeemed, and that there is a deep purpose in my life, deeper than I can comprehend. He has reminded me that "'Though your sins are like scarlet, I will make them as white as snow.'" (Isaiah 1:18)

Unlike being able to smell snow, the love and hope of Christ isn't impossible to learn; quite the opposite, in fact. Jesus told Christians to go into all the world and preach His, and the only, good news, and He would take care of the heart change.

So if you have any questions about any of this, comment them below or tweet them to me here, and I'll answer you as promptly and as best as I can.

Until next time, enjoy the snow while you can (even if it's just in pictures). There's nothing else like it.

k, bye.