The problem with calling a snow day early is expectation.
My kids want to go to bed late, then get up early and play in the glorious snowfall they’re sure came in the night. Snow days are supposed to be like Christmas morning. All shiny bright and sparkling in the sunrise.
That’s not what we rose with this morning. Clouds hang low in the gunmetal gray and a stillness–a waiting–pervades the air. Is it coming? The landscape, my children, all holding their breath and hoping.
But you know, in our instant gratification life, maybe a little waiting, a little anticipation, a little crush to our super-sized expectations isn’t really so bad. The weather—especially storms of any type or shape or name—might just be God’s reminder that we are not, despite our best efforts, actually in control of this spinning orb of life.
This letting go (you’re picturing Queen Elsa on a snow-capped mountaintop right now aren’t you?) takes effort. This year of sweet sixteen, when I’m actually turning thirty-six, has stamped my soul with one simple word: NEW.
The problem with letting everything always stay the same—as comfortable and cozy as that may be—is we will never grow or stretch our limits by remaining in our routine. I tell myself this as I look at my carefully scheduled planner with its hours blocked off for my freelance work and realize this won’t happen today because my routine has been disrupted.
And while I need to maintain some level of reliable working hours, I know I also need to allow myself to be transformed, renewed–changed by the everyday disruptions that come and go… or linger awhile and set up camp and create something I never expected.
I always thought that newness of soul was a sudden, jarring, final step in knowing God. A one-time shot of making me into His image.
But there is no final step. That transformation from sinner to child of God continues daily.
I dug into this today. Romans 12:2 from the Amplified Bible (because I’m a word nerd).
And do not be conformed to this world [any longer with its superficial values and customs], but be transformed and progressively changed [as you mature spiritually] by the renewing of your mind [focusing on godly values and ethical attitudes], so you may prove [for yourselves] what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect [in His plan and purpose for you].
Progressively changed…as I mature spiritually…progressive.
Still happening.
Not a one-time shot.
But an everyday renewal–a choice–a trying again with a deep breath and a mind focused, not on the expectations I have for this world, but on the expectations (all GOOD and ACCEPTABLE and PERFECT) God has for me.
Sometimes new looks like the perfect drifted snowfall. All expectations met.
Sometimes it looks like the muddy mess after.
The weather changes, shifts, settles into a pattern, but always, always welcomes a cycle of death to life.
Because it’s the muddy mess that holds the hope of spring.
What is something new you’re learning? About yourself? About God?
Lindsey P. Brackett 
I’m learning that God gives me answers in tiny trickles, not floods. That the task I believe he’s given me–that’s too big for me–he’ll enable me to do day by day by day. Not all at once, so that I think too highly of myself. He won’t allow me to take credit for what he’s doing. That’s him making me new, I hope.
Thank you, Lindsey. This is wonderful, as always. And I’m jealous of your snow. We’ve been told “snow” several times, only to wake up to three snowflakes and school as usual. Argh.
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