I don’t like driving at night, especially during the winter.
Dark roads + cold weather + snow + ice = no bueno for me being behind the wheel. This is coming from a girl whose dream is to have a chauffeur. Not because I’m fancy, but because I don’t like driving or sitting in cold cars in the winter! OK, I sound ridiculous. But just stay with me on this one.
I remember the first time I drove in the snow at night. My high school youth group had just finished meeting, and it was time for all of us to go home. I grabbed my keys, walked to my red Oldsmobile, and I kid you not, the moment I started the engine fluffy snowflakes began to fall from the sky.
One-by-one the flakes magically dancing around my headlights as I made my way onto the nearby county road. I probably should’ve been paying more attention to the road, but the air was filled with whimsy, and I couldn’t help but take it all in.
Each flake fluttered in the wind, drifting carelessly as gravity led it to the ground. When it made contact with the earth, the flake vanished, dissolving into the thousands of others that were already there. I looked out my window in awe as I watched them silently disappear.
I don’t like driving at night, but I do love big snowflakes.
They’re fluffy. They’re beautiful. They’re fascinating. But they’re also humbling because they teach me a lesson about life — they remind me that even though my life is finite, I still have value and a place in this world.
Have you ever felt like you didn’t have value or a place in this world?
I know I sure have. On more than one occasion, I’ve felt the weight of life come crashing down on me. In these moments the enemy whispers: Your life isn’t that significant, and your work is all for nothing. And even if your life were significant, you’re still just one person. What difference could you really make?