snow day

Today is a snow day here. Still working, but working from home. I’ve realized that a snow day like today is a catch-22 for most adults, a term which I now must begrudgingly apply to myself. After college (even in college), snow days no longer carry with them the luster they once used to. As an “adult”, the snow day just means more hassle, shoveling, planning, logistical problems. Snow days are just complicated.

Snow day drudgery

The snow day begins with waking up at the same time to make sure that it is indeed a snow day. Heaven forbid it isn’t, otherwise there is that great disappointment. Then, you have to make the executive decision as to how much longer (if at all) you’ll sleep in. Then, if you have kids, well, there are all those considerations. There are still the same myriad responsibilities and tasks that must get done. Email starts flying, phone calls, VPNs get fired up, and it’s just a digital mess. Oh, and most likely you’re stuck within the confines of your own four walls. All day.

The snow day lost

We’ve lost the allure of the beautiful, awe-inspiring, pristine nature of a freshly fallen snow. Some of the most beautiful scenes I can remember involve a landscape gently resting under a freshly drawn blanket of snow. Even today, falling snowflakes stop me in my tracks, if only for a fleeting moment. The next second however, the mind races with all the necessary precautions and considerations that need to be made in an instant. But how much like the snowfall is God’s grace to us?

Fresh as the early snow day hours

The moment of excitement as you check outside the window first thing in the morning. It’s unlike many other moments. The moment when we see God’s grace as just that, undeserved gift. Precious are those moments. Yet, we let them go. We instantly get bogged down in the details. The minutiae get magnified within a moment. How important are those details, really? How much more important than the beauty at hand is what we feel we must immediately tend to? Silly heart of mine! It’s sad to have lost that childlike wonder. It’s a shame to have become so prematurely old. Father, forgive me.

Maybe it’s this snow day, maybe it’s the next, or some other blissful event, but take hold of it and just ruminate in it. Soak in the wonderment. Lap up the excitement, however childish it may seem. What we may not realize is that’s precisely why God’s given it. He wants us to enjoy it and be reminded of from where it came. He loves giving those little gifts. He wants to see us act “immature” and “childish” from time to time. Don’t be ashamed. Take care, friends.