Snow Shovel Musings

Today during nap time I wandered out with the shovel and decided to go ahead and clear the driveway. I love snow. I even enjoy shoveling snow. I suspect that it's because we so rarely have the opportunity to do it, so every little opportunity is pleasant.

I love the silence that snow brings to a day. Even with the added sounds of shovels and squealing kids, snowy days always seem to be covered in an extra blanket of quiet that gives a warm, happy echo to sounds that filter through the air. It seems like every whisper is a little prayer when there's a blanket of snow on the ground. And it's easier, for whatever reason, to stop and be still and listen for God with an expectation of actually hearing His voice. As if the snow filters out all the noise of life and distills it into the essence that you need.

Shoveling itself never fails to remind me of God's grace - how the pristine, sparkling cover of snow hides the grass and driveway with all the dirt and imperfection inherent in them. And while the snow is just a temporary beautification and grace is eternal, the snow turns my mind more fully to the amazing gift I have received. I look at the pipe stem we live on and see how most of our neighbors take the time to clear only their own driveways and, if they bother at all with the common driveway, they take the time for only two little tire strips. And I wonder as I clear the entirety of our portion of the common driveway if I am as diligent about things in my life as I should be, or if I take only the time to leave little tire strips - doing the minimum to just get by, thinking that no one will notice or remark on it.

And when the driveway is cleared, I can come back into the warmth of the kitchen and look out at my handiwork and revel in the satisfaction of a job well done and hope that someday, when my life is evaluated, there will be that same sense of satisfaction, having been found a good and faithful servant.