There's word of a light dusting of snow possible for Christmas Day.
I am one of those people who believes snow on Christmas - even the slightest bit - is magical.
Maybe I've watched Irving Berlin's White Christmas too many times, but opening my eyes to a white Christmas is a majestic experience that promises of a bright and happy day.
Three years ago, it snowed on Christmas Day in Lubbock, TX for the first time since I was a child - a good, proper, thick blanket of snow. But I was on the other side of the world in South Africa, driving from my Peace Corps site to the Shipwreck Coast for a backpacking trip with a few fellow volunteers.
When my cell phone rang and my family said snowfall, I turned green with envy. Yes, I was headed for the trip of a lifetime, but I didn't know that then. All I knew was my family had said "snow."
Snow, glorious snow.
Last week a young friend of mine came home to his forever family.
He and his new momma and poppa took the long plane ride home from South Africa to find a fresh northern snow waiting for them in their Michigan home.
Skimming through Facebook updates, one of the first pictures of their homecoming was my young friend holding his first ever snowball with a look on his face saying, "Watch out world, I'm about to launch my first snowball!"
Praying for my young friend and his new momma and poppa as they all settle in to new family and new life forever redeemed.
Praying for friends back in South Africa who I know are missing my young friend and the place he held in their lives.
Every year huge flocks of Canadian snow geese fly south for the winter and make their winter home in the Lbk, crowding our small playa lakes (man built, well, ponds really) and adding a bit of charm to our West Texas town.
One of their favorite places to catch a bite to eat is the school yard across the street from me - hundreds of geese pecking the ground looking for small morsels to feed their hungry bellies.
Occasionally, I find a few clever geese in my front lawn using my house as a wind break.
I'm not a fan of geese in general after having a rather ornery white gander bite me on a outing to feed the ducks in my early years, but Canadian snow geese are a bit more majestic than your ordinary honking goose. They've long been a favorite of my mother, and I must admit I enjoy waking to find them on my doorstep.
Wherever you are this Christmas - with family or friends, at home or far from home - I hope you have a wonderfully snowy Christmas.
A Christmas with a bit of magic. A Christmas with a bit of hope. A Christmas with a bit of healing. A Christmas with a bit of renewal.
I hope our fences are mended and our hatchets are buried.
I hope our swords are beaten into plowshares and our peace is renewed.
I hope goodwill reigns in the hearts of men.
I hope hope is restored and faith is awakened.
I hope the expectant waiting for the Christ Child's coming is met with faith and love and the One and Only Begotten brings peace to the lonely and the forgotten.
I hope for Messiah, Emanuel, God with us.
I hope for the Kingdom come and the Kingdom coming.
I hope for the cleansing blood which washes whiter than snow.
I hope for a white Christmas blessing for each and every one of us.