"Wash me, and I will be whiter than snow."
We said good-bye to my mother on January 14.
The day after her funeral I stood over the interrupted ground, where her body now lay beside my dad.
I reached down to touch the flowers. Our last gift to her.
I was amazed that the rose had not been marked by the wind and the rain from the night before.
It was whiter than snow.
And I thought, this is what Jesus did for my mother.
And this is what Jesus has done for me.
By His blood, He has made us whiter than snow.