Falling Flakes

 "Does what moves the heart of God move me to action?"

Peanut wanted it to snow something fierce this week. She prayed for snow. She prayed for snow for Mo, who had never seen snow. She was just sure he was going to love it.

Sunday I kept watching out the window. Aware that snow was falling in towns around ours. Hoping.

I'm thankful for the mental picture I have of Peanut's face when she looked outside the first time and saw white stuff falling from the sky.

She rushed to bundle up and couldn't wait to get outside so Mo could experience his first snow.

I don't know about you, but while the stuff falling was gorgeous, the ground was not here. My yard looked more like a pig's mud pen than a winter wonderland. As it fell, it melted into the already saturated yard.

There were more mud puddles than snowman building materials.

Peanut was oblivious. She managed to make a snowman without snow ever accumulating on our yard.

As we sat with hot cocoa waiting on our ridiculously useless Old Navy gloves to dry , I kept sneaking glances at the pure joy on her face.

Even though the snow didn't look like she thought it might, even though it wasn't a pretty winter wonderland, she was still able to feel deep joy at the blessing the flakes falling provided.

I have a lot to learn from her.

This week feels heavy here. Appointments with uncertain news. Septic tanks that have had enough of all this rain. Teenagers trying to get back into the swing of a new semester. Navigating a prayer list full of covid. Again.

My ground is a muddy mess.

BUT, I forget to look up for the flakes falling.

The 8 year old excited about a virtual chat with a friend. The edge of a new puzzle almost finished. A car loaded with donations because the decluttering project is making progress. A new niece I can't wait to love on.

Mama Warriors, the ground is muddy.

But flakes are always falling.

Look up.