
“In the bleak mid-winter / Frosty wind made moan, / Earth stood hard as iron / Water like a stone; / Snow had fallen, snow on snow, / Snow on snow, / In the bleak mid-winter, / long ago.”- Christian Rossetti
“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread for the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.”- Isaiah 55:10-11 (ESV)
In 1961 the Drake Hotel in downtown Chicago opened a second location in the western suburb of Oak Brook. They hired a bastion of hospitality. Gino DiRenzo, then a symbol of excellence in the industry. As catering manager from 1962 to 2009, DiRenzo brought class and polish to every event at The Drake Oak Brook. However, in 2009 the hotel fell prey to a Ponzi scheme and closed. For what seemed for good.
During the next four years, the hotel and its adjacent ten-acre property fell into total disrepair — snow on snow. Enter Jim and Tely Nagle. Sitting at a nearby McDonalds sipping coffee, they walked over to the property and decided to buy it. In fact, as a child Jim’s grandfather took him to the hotel for Thanksgiving brunch. After that, the decision came quickly. But Tely relied on her faith in God throughout the process.
Renovation began the next day. Soon, Tely took charge of the redesign. And in 2015, The Drake Oak Brook once again opened its doors. The Latin inscription on the building crest reads, Uni Tempus Quietus — where time rests.
In Chapter 6 (“Consider the Lilies”) of A Million Little Miracles (2024), Mark Batterson describes a seminal moment in the life of G. K. Chesterton. A stab of joy that changed the trajectory of Chesterton’s life. A mountain of a man — six feet four and 330 pounds — he possessed a rare appreciation for little things. One day a dandelion stopped him in his tracks.
Most significantly, Chesterton stated, that dandelion kept him from turning into a pessimist. Because that humble dandelion provided irrefutable evidence that beauty existed in the world, not just the snow on snow of brokenness. As a result, one look at that dandelion woke up Chesterton to wonder. Setting off a “thin thread of trust.”
As Os Guinness wrote in Signals of Transcendence (2023), Chesterton talked about a little common flower that everyone sees. Yet, few people pick it. And even fewer people bother to give it any thought. Thus, as Pastor Batterson reminds us, nothing is as simple as it seems. Conversely, everything is more miraculous than we can imagine. Above all, a name exists for this: the dandelion principle.
Certainly, the Nagles applied the dandelion principle to their vision for the shuttered and neglected Drake. The principle equally applies to our snow on snow experiences. For example, while some people view the dandelion as a weed, others see great potential in the flower. Herbalists consider the dandelion as a medicine to detoxify the liver, clear the skin, and strengthen the eyes. Butterflies gain sustenance from it. And a child wistfully makes a wish while blowing on it.
In conclusion, Mark offers encouragement for our snow on snow times. He exhorts:
“There are a million little miracles hiding in plain sight. Of that I’m sure. But we must ‘learn to look’ from different angles! When we do, we see new dimensions of who God is. . . . There is a heavenly Father who cares for us more than we can imagine. The Father is watching out for us in ways that are beyond our paygrade.”
Dave, Thank you for sharing lovely thoughts.