Little Snow Boots

It snowed today. Just a light dusting, nothing to shout about, at least for those of us who are more “mature” and "experienced."  I say that in irony because I learn from my kids every day, if I'm humble enough to heed the lesson. My children on the other hand, were over the moon. It might has well have been five feet of snow; they were so ecstatic. They couldn’t shovel their oatmeal faster, talking over each other, with chimes of, “Please mom can we go outside!” 

Even my two year old joined in on the chatter. “Mama, no! (snow)”  jabbing her chubby baby fingers at the window. She gets it, too. 

I was just about to say, “It’s really not that great of a snow, guys,” when I stopped to see the sparkle in my four year old’s eye. 

“Mom, this snow is awesome!” 

 Rilla, my almost seven year old, chimes in, “Yeah, it’s so BEAUTIFUL, mom!” 

I inwardly shrugged. Who am I to be a fun-killer? They would find out soon enough it wasn’t really that great. Not in comparison to other years, in my mind. 
Well, was I ever wrong. They played in the magic of that early morning quiet snow, making up games, giggling til their little bellies hurt, and never once complained there wasn't more snow. Later in the day, they begged to go outside again. It started snowing again, but it was that wet rain/snow this time and they did not utter one word about the wet or the cold; they played some game Rilla made up called "snow fire" (makes total sense). 
The two year old waddled in on the fun in her adorable Ralphie-like suit and ate snow and licked the snowflakes and stop and stared up at the white sky. 

"No! No!" (Snow, snow!)

They were so deeply grateful for that half-inch of snow. 

I heard deep within my heart, Soak this in. Remember these precious little souls are on loan to you, and they are MINE first. Seal that deep within your heart.

I knew it was God; I visibly shuddered and immediately prayed, Lord, give me a moment to let this seep in.

And He did. I sat there, in the chair by the window, watching my three beautiful, precious, feisty, individual little humans laugh and play and throw snow at each other, and I was filled with supernatural thankfulness. That thankfulness was a gift, given to me by God Almighty. It warmed my soul. 

I finally convinced my three precious babies to come inside when the fingertips of light were stretched thinly across the sky. Their cheeks and noses were bright Rudolph red and their skin smelled incredible, like outside; cold and fresh. It took probably five solid minutes to peel them out of their wet layers, and I set their snow boots on a towel to dry and walked away, onto the next thing. After all, dinner needed to be cooked and the laundry needed to be switched and Anni was already tearing apart Levi’s duplo blocks and he was almost in tears. And so it goes. 

Suddenly, I heard His voice again. Clear as day. Look at those boots.
I obeyed quickly this time. 
I whipped around and stared at those little wet snow boots. 

You know those moments where you know God has been trying to hammer a lesson home deep within your heart? And most of the time you’re too busy or distracted to notice? 

Well, I got it this time. I'm far from perfect but I am learning to stay in those moments a little more. I think it's vitally important to my growth as a Christian, and, secondarily, growth as a wife and mom and friend and all of the things.

And I sat in that moment as my now half-thawed out frozen popsicle children played happily in the living room (“baby bird” is their new current favorite game where Rilla is the mama bird and they build a “nest” with pillows, Levi is the obedient baby bird and Anni is the rogue rebellious other baby bird who mostly destroys their “nest” and climbs over Levi like a human jungle gym.) 

I know it was not an accident they were playing so well. I know that was God’s providential hand of grace upon me. I know that in the depths of my heart. He gave me this moment to ponder. To dwell on His goodness in the mundane details of my crazy current child-raising season.
These children are on loan to me. I am not promised tomorrow. They are not promised tomorrow, either. BUT, I have an anchor. 
“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” 
Hebrews 6:19
An eternity set in my heart. A promise of a righted future, someday. Not in this life, but the next. Just like the Jews, wandering around in the desert waiting for the promised land. We are wanderers, sojourners, yearning for a foreign land where all is right. Heaven is such a beautiful promise and it fills my soul with hope. 
I’m going to get real honest and raw up in here. My biggest fear is having to bury one of my babies. It shakes me to the core and sometimes I think about it at night and it drives fear right into the depths of my soul. I don’t know if God will ask me to give up one more of my precious children. I already gave Him back one precious tiny baby, 13 weeks young, that was also on loan to me. That left deep scars in my soul as a young 23 year old. Scars that will never leave. We grow through tragedy, but we never forget. And part of that scar is supposed to be a remembrance. A memorial. That babe was too precious to forget. I never want to. Time has lessened the sharp pain, but I remember. And I'm so glad I do. 
It reminds me of the preciousness of life.
The thought of giving another one back is not something I want to think about, and is not even something I think we should dwell on, for that is living in fear. 

But, my children cannot be my idols. They cannot be the apple of my eye. They are a gift, on loan to me from the Greatest Giver, and I am so eternally grateful they are mine, for this moment, for this flurry-filled day with half an inch of snow, lukewarm cocoa cups held by tiny hands and wet kid-sized snow boots dripping melted snow all over my floor. 

But I can’t miss the bigger picture.
It’s about more than living in the moment, or even appreciating those silly snow boots, which I do believe is a vitally important lesson in itself. What God is driving home in my soul is  this probing question: What is pushing out thankfulness and full surrender to God? For me, every good gift I’ve been given - and yes, every hard thing I’ve encountered - is a chance for me to respond to God’s provision for me. It’s a chance for me to worship Him. It doesn't mean it will be easy and that it won't hurt, even deep wounds, at times. It gives a greater meaning to these precious gifts that God has given me. It’s more than just about those little souls, as important to me as they are. It’s a stark reminder that this world, this life  isn’t going to last forever. Let that thought sink in for a minute. 
Do you believe that? Do you recognize that your life, your children’s lives, your family and friends lives, will come to an end one day? Are you ready for what comes next? Even if you don’t believe there is an after-life, respectfully I would say - what have you got to lose? Ask God to reveal Himself to you. He promises in His Word that He will. 

For me, the comparison game is a thief of thankfulness. Just like I can’t compare this snow to the last year’s epic snow, so comparison steals our gratitude. It robs us of our heart of thankfulness. Thankfulness should overflow out of my soul and right out of my mouth. It should spill out, every day. Yes, it pleases God when we glorify Him. But it’s also for our good. We were made to worship; made to overflow with thankfulness to the one True Creator God who made the heavens and the earth and ordains when it will snow two feet and when it will snow two inches. And we praise Him, either way. 
I do not follow God because I have some sort of deal with Him - if I worship Him and surrender my life to Him that my life will turn out a certain way or I won’t have struggles or heartache. He is the God of the deep, dark valleys and the beautiful breathtaking mountaintop views. It has to be both. And He is worthy to be praised. God, prepare my heart, but take away my fear. Fill my soul with hope instead. Help me to anchor my soul in Your Word, which is Truth & Grace. And how we need truth & grace in this world.
He is worthy to be praised. I yearn to look through the lens of thankfulness, and stop for that small still voice that you know is God, and take that lesson, let it sink deep into my soul, and in the future, every time I see little snow boots, to remember. 

“Bless the LORD, oh my soul, and all that is within me, bless His Holy Name! Bless the LORD, oh my soul and forget not all His Benefits.” 

Psalm 103:1-2