(ooh, have you heard my theory on pink and fluffy dinosaurs? eh, another story for another time. . .)
Y’ALL, IT SNOWED. Honest to goodness fluffy white flakes of happiness.
(that quickly turned into slush and ice and not-a-fun-time, but that’s beside the point)
It can officially be winter/Christmas-time now. The snow has put me in the warm and fuzzy mood, so now I’m huddled up at my laptop typing dutifully. The background music of coffeeshop Christmas music will have to suffice though, because no way am I braving the snow, ice, and slush to go to a legit shop.
Driving to church today, I was rather stunned by the fluffy white flakes. Suffice to say we don’t get snow a lot, and I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve woken up to fluffy snowfall.
My brother was the epitome of patience as I managed to call out a dozen times during the drive- OHMYWORD THAT LOOKS SO PRETTY, QUICK, GET A PICTURE!
As I was saying, the heavy (okay, not *heavy*, but heavy by my standers, ‘kay?) snowfall got my gears turning. I realised how much snow was actually falling. On top of that- I realised how much snow was melting.
I concluded that at the rate the snow was falling, stacking, and melting, there had to be [insert extremely accurate physics equation explaining the very accurate end result] millions of little snowflakes.
I remembered from my elementary days (we’ve all been there, don’t try to deny it) when in science I was taught that there are no two snowflakes that are exactly the same. Naturally, I thought that was pretty cool. Seeing as how I’d only seen a handful of snow, it never really struck me as that amazing.
*glances outside at the melting slush*
. . .
*re-imagines this morning when it was all fluffy*
I mean, think about it. Even if this world was created entirely by chance, and the snow just happens to have trillions of billions of different designs- Wait, what am I saying??
How can this much beauty and precision be chance?
But let me take it a step farther.
The snowflakes are all designed differently, with unique features that will never be seen on another snowflake. Looking outside though, I can tell you that the lifespan of the snowflake post-the-great-fall-from-the-skies is approximately. . . a cup of cocoa (like how long a cup of cocoa lasts. . . you get me).
So if, say perhaps, there is indeed a Creator who has planned out the small detail of the appearance of a snowflake (the details of which a majority of people will never see, and no one will ever see with the naked eye), why are we so worried and stressed about ourselves or our lives? We live WAY more cups of cocoa than a snowflake. We are seen by so many more people, and we (hopefully) affect so many more people than a snowflake.
Earlier this month, my mother challenged (or nicely prompted) me to read a chapter of the gospel of Luke every day. I’ve been doing it with a friend, and the other day when I was going through a tough moment, I ran across a verse that I ended up sending to said friend.
Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?Luke 12:24-25 [ESV]
Yeah, I know. It’s a pretty commonly used verse. But just because something is commonly used, does that mean it should be ignored? Pfft, no. There’s a reason it’s commonly used.
In this passage, He’s talking about birds.
But what about the snowflakes?
If God puts so much energy and time into creating a snowflake. And He decides where it will land and how long it will last.
Why do we have any reason to believe He doesn’t do the same for us?
You, my friend, are so much more valuable than a snowflake.
Remember that 😉