March roared like a lion during the great blizzard of 1958. During this time, the skies above eastern Pennsylvania gathered into a tempest.
The wind lifted its voice. The snow descended in fierce abundance. It covered the hills and valleys as though the earth itself were being wrapped in a shroud of white.
And in those days, a child was born. It was not under gentle skies or in the warmth of spring. This happened during a storm that buried roads. It silenced towns and made even the strong take shelter.
The storm that day covered the world in white‑out. It was the kind that erases roads, landmarks, and every trace of what came before. This white‑out was more than a blizzard’s veil. It symbolized life itself in a double-edged manner. It presented a world erased yet also a canvas for renewal.
He was born into a world whited out by snow and silence. This new life also seemed marked by attempts to erase him. He was erased from memory, from lives, and from hope.
Yet, by the grace of Jesus, this white‑out became white=out: a divine correction, a sacred rewriting.
Years of failures, accusations, missteps, and crimson stains sought to mark him. The hand of grace used white-out to cleanse and renew him. It made him as pure and bright as that winter storm.
And the child was not wrapped in swaddling clothes. Instead, he was wrapped in blankets thick enough to guard against the cold. Meanwhile, the world outside lay under blankets of snow.
The shepherds did not abide in the fields. The fields were lost beneath drifts higher than a man’s shoulders. Neither were angels singing overhead, for the storm drowned out every voice but its own.
The storm raged on. It was as though March itself protested the arrival. March roared its disapproval, shaking the windows and stamping its frozen feet.
Yet the child endured, for even the fiercest lion cannot stop what Heaven has appointed.
And when the time came for the naming, it was spoken plainly and without hesitation:
“And you shall call his name Allen.”
In the years that followed, the storms of life would rise and fall. Yet, the One who quiets the winds would take him in hand.
He came into the world through the roar of the lion. In time, the Good Shepherd would shape him. Born a lion, he would become a lamb by grace.
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