When was the last time that you looked at a snowflake? I mean, really looked at one?
They’re easy to overlook. They can be frustrating – this white stuff that piles up and blows around and keeps us from doing what we want to do, from going where we want to go. It’s amazing how we’re so easily able to find something bad about a good thing, but it’s just as easy to find something good about a bad thing. Like life in general, whether we look for the bad or the good, it’s all just a matter of perspective.
When you look really close at a snowflake, it’s amazing their design. Such intricate crystals, so different from each other. Millions upon millions sit along the edge of my driveway at this moment, each unique in their design. And yet, with just a casual glance, we relegate them to nothing more than a nuisance. But as I spent some time this morning before church with snowshovel in hand, I couldn’t help but marvel at the exquisite design of the small, white lumps that wafted lasily down onto my coat. Here one moment, and with the warmth of the palm of my hand, gone the next. Such intricacy for such a short lifespan.
Maybe it’s because several of my friends have had kids recently and my perspective is changing from one of annoyance and skepticism to one of almost childlike awe at the wonderful creation that I’m so blessed to live amongst – seeing the world, the people, around me with new eyes that were long ago dulled by the cares and concerns of life. Maybe it’s because I’m tired of following the crowd and looking for the bad in the good, for the mundane in the extraordinary. Maybe it’s because God has something to teach me. Whatever the reasons, I can’t look at something as simple as a tiny snowflake the same way again.
It got me to thinking about God’s care for our lives, about his extreme attention to the details. We’re told in Luke 12 that God notices even when a sparrow dies. Psalm 147 tells us that God has a name for every one of the stars in the sky. We’re told also in Luke 12 that He knows how many hairs there are on our heads, and Isaiah 49 says that He has written our names on the palms of His hands. Psalm 139 exclaims that God “know[s] everything about me,” that He knows “when I sit down or stand up,” and that He knows our thoughts “even when [we’re] far away.” The Psalmist goes on to tell about how God knit us together in our mother’s womb and knows the innermost parts of our bodies.
Yes, the very same God who put so much detail into something as miniscule and relatively insignificant as a snowflake, puts the same attention to detail in our lives.
How can we ever look at things the same way again?