I had posted on facebook a while back that a small part of me couldn’t wait until it was time to shovel snow. Judging from the comments received, I could tell most of the people missed the “small” part. I am a little weird in that I do like to shovel snow. For the first time each season anyway. After that it loses a little bit of its appeal. And before I go much further, I’d like to say that my dear husband usually shovels or blows it, but sometimes I like to do it instead.
My reason I like to shovel snow is that it is so quiet it seems as if you can almost hear God breathing. Have you ever taken a walk with snow falling all around you, wrapping you in its cocoon of quietness? There is no other way to describe it than to say it is a simple hushness. I know that is not the proper way to use that word, especially since my spell check is glaring at me, but that is the word that comes to mind.
A hush so quiet you can feel it in your soul. I like to think of it as God breathing.
So the other day after we received 6 inches of snow, I decided it was time to go out and feel the breath of God. After picking my kiddos up from school, we all got home and they donned their snow paraphernalia to go sledding down our driveway. This was the drive next to the one I was going to attempt to shovel.
After planning the most efficient way to end up with the least amount of snow back on my freshly-shoveled drive, I began. Shovel. Scoop. A car passed. Shovel. Scoop. Kids are yelling. Shovel. Scoop. Someone almost did a face plant going down on the sled. Shovel. Scoop. One of my offspring just plowed through my neatly piled snow on the side of the drive. Shovel. Scoop. I’m starting to get tired now. Shovel. Scoop. A sled goes zooming past with a not-so-quiet kid grinning in delight.
Sighing, I realized there was so much other noise that I couldn’t hear the sound I’d purposely come out here to listen for. Where was the breath of God when I wanted it so much?
Sometimes my life can get just like my attempt at shovelling. I’m plowing through life trying to hear the voice of the Lord, but other sounds are drowning it out. Other things that have more importance than Him.
And I’m left wondering where God went . . . . when it’s really me who needs to go to that hushed and reverent place where I can hear only Him and nothing else.
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