Men of Snow

A few months ago I stood in a very crowded concert hall with my sister Becky. I was there, enjoying Ingrid Michaelson, on a borrowed ticket. She was amazing and my feet were killing me. I hadn’t heard much of her music like my sisters had but all of her music was so beautiful, her lyrics were so genuine. She sat at the piano and sang a song about a snow man and for some reason this song struck me. I don’t know what it was about it at the time but I loved it. After the show I bought the CD, stuck it in my bag and honestly forgot about it. But a few weeks after the concert, we went through some troublesome… stuff. We found out that the house that we had so hoped to buy, the house we are living in now, was being sold out from under us. At a terribly high price no less. We faced moving, again. We faced uprooting our babies from their home, again. And I stuck the CD in my car.

I hadn’t listened to the words at the concert, I just loved that it was about a snow man and the beautiful way her voice cried when he melted. But as I drove, alone, pondering what on Earth we were going to do, I listened to the words. I listened. And God spoke to me through a song about a snow man.

“And everything we love and hold so dear, it won’t really matter, when we disappear”

He spoke to me and he opened my eyes. All this stuff that Erik and I have made into a home for the last nine years doesn’t really matter. Where we live, the kind of car that we drive, the balance in our savings account, doesn’t really matter. Someday it will all melt away and what will be left are the ones that we love, the faith that we cling to and our Savior. That’s it.

I am afraid of where we are going at this point in our lives. I honestly feel like we are at some strange end to this stage of life. I don’t know what the next one holds. Where will we live? He will provide; he always has. How will we make these ends meet? He will provide us a way. Will my kids really be damaged if I force them to all share a room in a tiny apartment? No, maybe they can make some life long memories. And maybe, just maybe at the end of this long and scary journey is a simple life, with a home of our own.
 

So as we head down a road we are afraid to travel, I pray that we can let those things we hold on to, those things that don’t matter melt away.