Footprints, in the snow

The wind howled outside the living-room window. The aluminum tracks of the windows were peppered in white frost. Snow was piling up outside like powdered sugar on Christmas cookies. (What, you don’t make them like that? It’s my favorite part!) It was the middle of the day, in the middle of the week and the whole family was home. This could only mean one thing: “Snow Day.”

Snow days always started out the same. With breakfast, then “The hunt” for snow pants, boots, mittens and hats. (Mine had “idiot- cords” that kept them attached to to each other, but, I still managed to lose them between wearings.) After gathering the necessaries from all over the house. My Mom added her own “special touch,” from the kitchen. Bright, red, blue and yellow polka-dot “Wonder Bread” plastic bags, (saved in the bread drawer for just such an ocassion)one for each foot. Yes, foot. These would be slipped over my socks and then into my boots for “waterproofing”. Old School. Love it.

Finally, around noon, we headed outside. All the Dad’s, to shovel the walks. And all the kids, to pester our parents, build snowmen and snow-forts, and throw snowballs until someone cried. It was (mostly) wonderful.

This time. It was different. The snow was deep. The deepest I could remember. My dad walked ahead. He had no problem. He went around back, toward the garage, to get the snow shovel. I struggled to follow behind him. I made it about 10 feet before I got stuck, and 10 seconds before I was scared. I was having boot- trouble. If I raised my foot, my boot would slip off. If I kept it down, I couldn’t move. I was in frozen bread bag, slippery boot, purgatory. Either, I could move and risk frost bite- or stay where I was and freeze solid.

I started to yell. “Dad! Daddy! Help! I’m stuck!” Snowflakes clung to my eyelashes. He couldn’t hear me. I yelled louder. I had flashbacks to the episodes od Little House on the Prairie where they were stranded in the snow…I started to cry. My ears started to burn. (I was sure it was a sign of frostbite) Tears froze on my cheeks.

Just when the world started to grow dim… (ok- maybe not so much, but I was a girl and a tad melodramatic) I saw my Dad come around the corner. “Come on!” He called. “I can’t” I wailed. “I’m stuck!” My Dad looked at me. He looked at the snow. He walked toward me. Shuffling his feet. Clearing a path. Then, he turned, “Follow me” he called over the wind and snow and scrape of snowshovels.

And, I did. All around the front yard, and the backyard. I followed him. Sometimes he shuffled, sometimes he just, walked. Where he shuffled- I skipped- the snow like the red sea, was parted on either side of me. Where he walked, I hopped from one of his gigantic (to me) footprints to another. Where the snow drifted too thick to shuffle through and too high to hop over, my Dad carried me.

Often times, my journey with God, is a lot like a snow day. Exciting, and a bit dangerous. Fun, but also, hard, footprint hopping work. Some days, I feel like I’m skipping along behind Him as he clears a path. Other days, I struggle to jump from one footprint to another. There are days, when I feel like He’s turned some corner where I can’t see Him. Then, there are the days when I feel stuck. Afraid to move and afraid to stay put. Life is just too deep, too high, too cold, too hard, for me to walk. I wail. I cry.

And God, hears. He wipes the snowflakes and tears from my lashes, and I can see. He was right there all the time. He picks me up. He carries me. As he always does.

Not, just on snow days.

Isaiah 46 3-5 (NIV)

“Listen to me, O house of Jacob,
all you who remain of the house of Israel,
you whom I have upheld since you were conceived,
and have carried since your birth.

Even to your old age and gray hairs
I am he, I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
I will sustain you and I will rescue you.

“To whom will you compare me or count me equal?
To whom will you liken me that we may be compared?”

What kind of day are you having? Is it a snow day? Are you following a path cleared by your Father, or are you hopping from one footprint to another? Do you think He’s far ahead, maybe even around a corner, out of sight? Are tears and snowflakes stinging your eyes? Or, are you stuck, and just plain need to be picked up and carried? No matter how you’re feeling, we have a God who’s ready to hear you’re cries.

Dear Lord- I pray that we’d each follow the path you’ve layed out for us-every day, not just snow-days. I pray that we’d have the courage to follow where ever you lead, and that you’d clear the snow from our paths. Lord- regardless of how things appear- whether you seem near or far, or how deep and cold the snow may be in our lives, help us to know and to trust- that you are carrying us. You, the one who is faithful to save. I love you Lord- Amen.

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