To everything there is a season,

A time for every purpose under heaven

—Ecclesiastes 3:1

If the forecast proves accurate, we’re in for a doozy of a winter storm this weekend.

I grew up in New York State, so I’m no stranger to snow and cold. In my hometown, with the lake-effect snow off of Lake Erie, it wasn’t unusual to go to bed with no snow and wake up unable to find your car. However, because such weather was common, snow days were rare. I have many memories of trudging to school with snow up past my waist—or higher—as I tried to avoid stepping on patches of ice or in puddles full of muddy, sloppy slush.

Even though we didn’t have many snow days, the snow itself was something to be celebrated and enjoyed. I’d spend hours and hours outside, with friends or by myself, sledding, building snow forts, making snow angels, digging tunnels, having snowball fights, and crunching on icicles we’d dislodge from the roof. (I know, I know! I can’t even imagine what was in that frozen water…) The possibilities for fun among the endless flakes seemed infinite.

We’d stay outside until our fingers and toes turned blue and numb, or our parents yelled at us to come inside, or else we’d “catch our death.” Then we’d moan and groan and complain, “But we’re having so much fun!” We knew the precise amount of time we could refuse to comply until we’d get in trouble for not doing as we were told.

At some point, snow became something different to me. Instead of being a delightful playscape that provided hours of entertainment and physical play, it was a treacherous, annoying fixture that caused problems and made life more difficult. I dreaded having to deal with it.

My children, of course, find the snow absolutely magical, for all the same reasons I enjoyed it as a child. Their only disappointment with the impending storm is that it’s supposed to happen on a weekend, which means they might not get any snow days. But if history proves prophetic, any significant snowfall and icy accumulation means the city will be shut down for a few days, and they may get their snow days at the beginning of next week.

Their excitement about the potential snow day(s) made me wonder: What would it look like if I actually embraced the snow day?

As I get older, I find that I’m more rigid in the way I move through life. I make plans, and it sometimes feels catastrophic if they get derailed. When something unexpected happens, like a snow day, my brain screams and protests, But today was the day we were supposed to do X!

To an extent, I understand what’s happening. Since I grew up in a chaotic and toxic household, where I never knew what a day would bring, I highly value security and predictability. When I know what to expect, I can prepare myself mentally, emotionally, and physically for the situation. When I don’t know what to expect, I feel insecure, vulnerable, and anxious. I struggle to adjust my expectations and embrace the new circumstances.

The verse from Ecclesiastes came to mind when I was pondering these thoughts this week. My children will only be young once, with all the carefree fun that comes with this season of their lives. How can I begrudge them the very thing I yearned for when I myself was a child? Begrudge them times of creativity and joy, innocence and wonder?

Maybe it’s time for me to be reminded of the child I once was—to recognize that I, too, desperately need times of creativity and joy, innocence and wonder in my life.

Tomorrow, when and if those first snowflakes softly drift to the ground, I can smile instead of frown. I can say in my heart, “Let it snow!” And I can do so trusting that there is a purpose under heaven for every single one of those unique and magical flakes that God Himself created.

With love in Christ,

Amanda

xoxo

Scripture taken from the New King James Version^®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.