No kidding, right? A full 15 months have passed since my last post and this one. There was a lot on my plate, but God’s been nudging me back in this direction, so I’m trying to follow His leading. I thought I’d come and share more stories about faith in the little things, which end up being not so little. This time, about snow.
We had some snow here in Ontario this past month (big surprise, I know), but we weren’t at home to shovel it. When we did get home, it had hardened and felt like ice, though it still had the white appearance of snow. This realization hit me the first moment that my shovel made contact with the ground, and I internally groaned. My brother and I made some progress, but out of fatigue, decided to try again another day. If you’re familiar with this icy snow, you’ll know that it’s a workout that uses every muscle you have, and I have back problems. We also could still technically get into the driveway, and we had groceries. Therefore, the rush to shovel didn’t feel imminent.
That is, until, I learned we were getting another, heavier snowfall later that week. So the next morning I set out and try to de-ice the driveway. I was out there for a while, leveraging my shovel to separate the ice from the asphalt. Every inch of progress was a gruelling task. It took me hours, even with some much-needed help, hacking away at the ice bit by bit.
To keep moving forward, I remembered that should more snow rest on the ground—which was scheduled for the following day—we would be unable to get into the driveway at all. Our cars would have to be parked on the side of the road, risking damage from the snowplow. And getting this ice off the ground would be infinitely more difficult, if not impossible.
There was no more time. This was our only moment to not feel like moles this winter.
I started to wonder, could this be akin to the Christian walk? Maybe.
Every so often, some chunks of ice would loosen, which made my progress feel worth it. Sometimes in our walk with God we may face similar challenges. We may question whether we’re making any difference, or if we need to “hang up our shovel” and hibernate.
When it really matters, and you see the danger ahead, we must pick up our shovels. The devil comes to steal, kill, and destroy, and unlike ourselves, he does not rest (John 10:10; 1 Peter 5:8). That is why we must seek God daily, regularly, and hold fast to what brings guaranteed places of encounter with Christ, such as prayer, worshipping together, and scripture reading (just to name a few) (Romans 12:2).
When your energy wanes, remember seeking God regularly doesn’t have to feel “big”. You can pray while on-the-go and have eyes open. You can worship together with your family by praying together, or over a heart-to-heart with a friend on the phone. Listen to an audio Bible version while getting dressed in the morning. You don’t have to reinvent the day to fit God in; it can be as simple as taking one breath over your cup of coffee to remember His presence. These “little” moments add up to melt our hearts which have iced over from fatigue, disappointment, and heartache. I promise you, it makes a difference.
The only thing you have to remember is just to pick up the shovel. And to all of you reading, Merry Christmas Eve.