It snowed today.
I wasn’t prepared for it – mentally, physically, or emotionally. Three days ago, I was airing out my house as warm winds danced in one window and out another. I was dreaming of tan skin and flip flops and summer adventures, my mind carried away by those same warm winds.
Tonight, I sat in my frozen car waiting for the rear defrost to work its magic. No gloves, no scraper. Just the magic of black stripes across the rear window taking their dear sweet time.
It’s funny the things that force you to slow down.
You would think it would be people dear to me or the anxious feelings in my overwhelmed body or the deep longing I sense for a God I neglect.
You would be wrong. I slow down for none of those things.
As I stared into my rearview mirror, waiting for the lines to gradually widen as the warmth spread across the glass, two things became clear. The first was obvious – the view. I was beginning to see what was literally behind me. The second was as gradual as the melting – we need time to defrost.
We accumulate a lot at the pace we live. Layers and layers of build up from running and hustling and ignoring and conceding and stuffing and burying. Who has time to actually deal with anything? So, we add another layer of disappointment or hurt or frustration or insecurity to layers we’ve never dealt with and press on. Cause ain’t no one got time for this. We’re driving around with impaired vision, squinting through whatever gaps we can find.
Over time our hearts and spirits become as crusty as the deep freeze in the garage. By then the only thing that works is to unplug it completely and let it thaw out. The thicker the build-up, the longer to thaw.
But what if we were better about turning on the defrost when the first layers begin to fall? What if we could slow down for just a few moments and invite God to melt away the build-up from the day? Perhaps we wouldn’t feel like we were suffocating under the blanket of burdens we’ve allowed to pile up.
Less than five minutes after I hit my defrost button, my window was clear enough for me to continue on my journey safely. Which would cost me more – five minutes of waiting or ignoring the build-up and possibly wrecking, hurting myself and/or others? My life is far more valuable than my old camry. Why am I more wreckless with it?
It snowed today.
I wasn’t prepared for it. But that doesn’t mean I was unprepared.
I didn’t expect it but I had what I needed to respond to it.
May we slow down today. May we find five minutes to hit the defrost button so God can start to work on the build-up in our lives before it buries us.
If you’re buried pretty deep under layers and need some help, reach out to good people around you. They’ll show up with scrapers and brooms and shovels in hand to start clearing the snow while God does the work only God can do underneath.