Looking out the plate glass window my eyes move from the snow covered landscape to the big fat flakes falling from the sky.
Today I’m feeling small. Tiny. Insignificant.
I stare until the backdrop drifts from view and all I see are the individual little flakes. The small, tiny frozen droplets take my attention. Each one is unique. Each one is an individual with no match regardless of the numbers falling from the sky. It dawns on me that one flake alone is insignificant, incapable of doing anything great on it’s own. In fact, alone it would fall from the sky and disappear, doing nothing at all to change the world around it.
My eyes shift back to the snow covered trees, the forest canopy turned a brilliant white, and the once dirty landscape now fresh and clean. It’s a quiet beautiful and only God can decorate with this amazing tiny building block.
If He can use the smallest snowflake to make such a huge impact – like the near blizzard of this last week – maybe He can use me too. Maybe all the things that never seem to be noticed, or even matter, will be added to the work He is already doing and it will mound up in a heap of difference.
I smile as I refocus on the tasks at hand inside the warmth of this small house. In my heart I become like a snowflake. One who’s beauty often seems unseen but who’s job amounts to much when joined up with the plans of God. Only He sees the blizzard of change and difference when combining all our tiny efforts together. To Him, looking out His window, He sees an amazing landscape of love, endurance, obedience, and hope. Who knows what masterpiece He will paint with my small snowflake like efforts. All I know is that I want to be one of His mighty snowflakes. I want to create mountains and hills, piles and snowscapes of hope and change. Maybe, just maybe, He will even let me see the masterpiece when He’s done.