You know the phrase, “When it rains, it pours”? This article is going to be based on that phrase, but adjusted to: “When it snows, it snows a little bit at a time”.
Recently, my husband had a five day work trip to California – which, really, felt cruel as I dropped him off at the airport on a cold, January morning in Pittsburgh with an impending snow “storm” coming that very night. He hadn’t even packed a coat! Little did we know that’d he’d be flying back to cold Pittsburgh while fires raged just outside the area he was, but, regardless, it didn’t feel “fair”. He was off to sunny California for work that was conveniently near some of our best friends that we rarely get to see. He was, sure, going to work, but it was at a priest retreat where he’d get to witness multiple talks and interactions with some very “Catholic cool” people. While I was at home, with three children, in a snow “storm”.
I keep saying “storm”, because it ended up being far from that. Shortly after dropping my husband off, school was cancelled. But waking up the next morning it had only snowed a couple of inches – enough to cover the ground and be just annoying enough to force you to go shovel the driveway. So, I did. I went out in the afternoon and shoveled our path to the front door and our driveway. Our driveway isn’t “long”, but a good 7-8 car lengths long.
The next morning, school was not cancelled, but yet again, it had snowed another inch or two – enough to cover the ground and be just annoying enough to force you to go shovel the driveway. So, I did. Twice. Because it kept flurrying all day. And at this point, I wanted a clean driveway. It was my personal competition with Mother Nature. I was the sole adult of the house and I wanted a cleared off driveway. By the time I went to bed that night, I had checked outside at least every hour to make sure it hadn’t snowed again.
The next morning, school was not cancelled, but it sure should have been! Our road was not cleared, and there was yet again, another inch or two. At this point, I’m ticked. My muscles are sore. I’m anxious about driving the kids to school on the snow-packed road. I miss my husband. Two of three kids are sick (because, of course). And our driveway is covered. Again. Before school, I went out and shoveled two tracks for my tires to go down.
I get home from school drop-off, and out I go. Again. To shovel our driveway. This time, our neighbor pokes his head out to give me a hard time. I told him that my husband “owed” me. Of course he was in sunny California as I shoveled our driveway for the third day in a row. My little competition with Mother Nature was definitely not going my way. But, for now, our driveway was cleared. Keep in mind – the weather forecast had not shown any of the past two days of snow fall. So every time I had shoveled, I was confident that would be the last time. This time, however, I was not hopeful at all. But my husband was coming home the next day, so that was good.
The next morning, I hesitantly looked outside. There was no new snow! I was so happy. I just needed it to hold off until that night. Tomorrow morning, the driveway would be my husband’s responsibility. Throughout the day, I kept looking out at the driveway. And every time, more and more kept melting off. By the time he got home, it was all but dry. The excitement of my husband being home trumped all other feelings, but it did not escape my thoughts how comical it was that when he left, our driveway was clear. Now that he was home, it was clear again. Like nothing even happened.
I just wanted it to snow all at once – to come quickly, dump the total amount it needed to, and move on. But that’s not what happened. It snowed a little bit every day. Now the whole point of this prolonged analogy:
I think we often want to skip to the end. We want hardships to pass quickly (but of course, would rather they never come at all). We want to take control and solve the problem immediately. All to move on and forget it happened at all. But that’s rarely what actually happens. The reality is, things come a little bit at a time – and often feel like they come when we are at our lowest. These “things” can be big or small, but it always seems like they stack on top of each other forcing us to question what is going on. Unfortunately, we can’t skip to the end. We have to keep facing these things – we have to keep shoveling. We cannot just get it over with. We cannot earn holiness quickly. Holiness is continuous small actions everyday. And that’s how true love is formed. Yes there are big gestures, but the day to day repetitive activity is the school of love and holiness, especially when it seems monotonous.
God calls us to be present to Him at all times. It’s SO easy to want to press fast forward, rewind, or even stop – to want to gather all the hardships and accomplish them at once so we can move on with life. But God wants us to never let off the play button or skip over the present. I had been writing this article in my head for days, not really knowing how I was going to drive my point home. But last night, a week after my husband left, he was talking to our kids about prayer, and he said to them “You can only talk to God now. You can see God in the past and hope in Him in the future, but you can only be with Him in the now”. And I think that it was what my too long of shoveling analogy is trying to say. We can only focus on now and be with God now where we are at. The “driveway” is going to be covered A LOT in our lives. But if that’s where God is, that is where we should be. And whether we feel Him there, He’s shoveling with us – if we let Him.
So if you’re going through a rough time, where it just keeps snowing, keep shoveling. Let God shovel with you. It will be clear one day.
