I went for a walk last night. It was late and most of the world was asleep. But a surprise little snowstorm was passing through and since snow has been rare around here of late, I went out into it with my beloved Sam (my newfoundland dog).

What greeted me was an unspoiled blanket of sparkling diamonds. The snow sparkled, lit by street lights and a light sky. I stood in the middle of the street and for the first time in my life I could imagine some of the words used to describe heaven – I could imagine streets of gold and walls of diamonds; I could imagine the unimaginable and it felt holy.

Every crunchy, squeaky step I took through the perfect snow felt like a declaration of God’s grandeur – for no matter the scientific explanation for why the snow was the way it was (particularly frigid temperatures that resulted in dry snow refracting the ambient sky light and existing street lights, blah, blah) this was God’s snow. And so I walked and held my breath so that I wouldn’t miss the prayer that my feet were making.

When I got home I said, “Amen.”