When I hear snow is coming, I can’t wait to start baking. This week, when I learned we were about to get some snow—and the children were getting out of school early—I ran to the grocery store to get Granny Smith apples. I had been wanting to make an apple pie, and this seemed to be the perfect opportunity.
Forget toilet paper, milk, and bread. As a Baltimore native, I know I’m supposed to rush to snatch up those key ingredients for surviving a snowstorm. But when snow is falling outside, what I crave is time in the kitchen. I want to put time into creating something that fills the house with warmth and the scent of something delicious in the oven.
While the children run outside to make snowmen, I pull out bowls, measuring spoons, flour, and sugar and embark on a baking adventure.
Baking takes time, but when snow is falling, time is what we have. Snow slows us down. Schools and workplaces close. The world comes to a beautiful, snow-covered halt. We discover time we didn’t even realize we had.
When you’re enjoying an unexpected afternoon at home, you might as well be wrestling with a rolling pin, sifting flour, or waiting for a fragrant treat that’s baking in the oven.
It helps if what you create is something that goes well with the hot chocolate the children will invariably ask for when they come barreling through the door, covered in layers of wet, snow-covered clothing.
Baking offers time to think and even pray, too, as you stir dough, roll out crusts, and peel and slice apple after apple.
It’s easy to find God in a beautiful snowy afternoon. He’s in the stillness of the snow falling gently on the grass. He’s in the joyful laughter of children sledding down a backyard hill. He’s in the magic of how a few simple ingredients in the kitchen come together to make a special treat. And He’s in that special time—time together, time at home, time to enjoy the snow or rest or read or bake.