Snow Lessons

My son is nearly five, and like many kids his age, he’s full of questions, particularly at bedtime. Recently, as I was putting him to bed, he excitedly asked, “Do you know what tomorrow is?” Racking my brain, I could think of nothing special.

“Um . . . a fun day at school?”

“No, Mom. It’s going to snow tomorrow!”

A quick check on my weather app showed a 40 percent chance of less than an inch. I was glad to see my boy excited but trying not to curse in my mind whoever had told him it was going to snow.

“Buddy, it might snow, but it looks like there isn’t a great chance. And if it does, it’s only going to be a tiny bit. Not enough to play in,” I said gently.

I might as well have been talking to his stuffed animals, because my son wasn’t hearing it. He was too excited about the prospect of snow. I got him settled, and like we do nearly every night, we began saying his prayers together. We prayed for his sisters and other friends and family, and then, of course, he prayed for snow! He prayed that God would make it snow enough for him to be able to play in it.

After we prayed, I sweetly tried to remind him, “It’s really not supposed to snow much. It probably won’t snow at all, okay? I just don’t want you to be bummed tomorrow.”

My son is a literalist, though, and he was told it was going to snow. And now he had talked to Jesus about it. In his mind, it was a done deal.

I told him a couple more times not to get his hopes up too much, and then I walked out of his bedroom. Just a few feet down the hallway, it hit me: had I really just tried to discourage my son from believing that God would hear his prayer and grant it? I’m a pastor, for crying out loud!

I may be a pastor, but honestly, I’m like most of us—not always sure what God is saying to me or where he’s leading. But this was one of those moments when, in my spirit, in my gut, I heard him. I felt him.

He was gentle but insistent. It was as if he was asking me to pay attention to what I had just done, not so much for my son’s sake but for my own. I took a few moments that evening and have taken many moments since to consider and talk to God about what my faith looks like. About what I ask him for. About why I would so quickly and insistently discourage my son from asking God for little bit of snow.

I preach faith. I teach it, and I speak it into the lives of others regularly. This story aside, I speak it into my kids’ lives, too, at least some of the time! I do believe in God. I do believe he hears me. But if I’m honest, I must admit that I don’t think I always trust him with nearly enough—or with big enough.

I pray daily, several times a day. But am I asking God just to stamp his approval on plans I’ve already made without him? Am I praying weak prayers, barely trusting him in actuality—with anything?

Pray for the kids. Check.
Pray for my husband. Check.
Thank God for the day. Check.

I think God loves it when we communicate with him, so don’t get me wrong. He adores us, and he adores hearing from us. And I will wholeheartedly endorse anyone’s efforts to know God and talk to him.

And yet . . .

God created the universe from nothing. He made us, Scripture says, knitting us together purposefully and perfectly. He is an all-powerful God. And while I will always ask him to keep my husband and kids well, he can handle even greater prayers than that. He can handle the stuff that doesn’t seem likely to my rational mind, like making more snow when weather.com says there won’t be much. Imagine!

In the Bible, we get a couple of glimpses of Jesus interacting with children, and it seems clear to me that he loved and valued them. In one of those interactions, he’s quoted as saying to his disciples, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3 NIV). Jesus was talking about station in life, about upside-down power structures and countercultural ways of living that were so common in his kingdom.

He speaks to me through this Scripture, saying, Watch your little boy, Heather. See how he trusts me with the big, the small, the silly, the fictional (PAW Patrol, you are very well prayed for by our household!)? Heather, watch how he takes what is so important to him—a snow day—and trusts me to make it happen.

The next morning, no snow was on the ground when we woke up, but within fifteen minutes gorgeous white flakes were falling from the sky. They fell quickly, though not in great quantity. Schools announced a two-hour delay, and my son was exuberant. It was snowing!

Within an hour or so, the snow had increased, and the predictions had, predictably, changed. We would be getting several inches of snow that day, plenty for an almost five-year-old to play and sled in. The two-hour delay became a total snow day, and we enjoyed hot chocolate, sledding, making a snowman, and more.

Through those snowflakes and his gentle but insistent reminders, God has taught me that he can handle the desires of our hearts. (He knows them anyway.) We can ask him for big things, for what others or our circumstances might not be predicting.

I have some desires stirring in my heart, and I’m beginning to speak them to him. I’m encouraged to trust him even more. I have my son’s example and God’s gentle persistence to remind me.

Nothing is too big, too difficult, too complicated for God. Nothing in your life or mine is too big an ask. Let’s follow my son’s example and start trusting God just a little, or maybe a whole lot, more. Let’s pray to see the snowflakes and trust that they will arrive right on time.

Heather Henderson was a pastor in Maryland for 8 years before stepping full-time into work as a life and leadership coach, author, and speaker. She is married with three kids, a gorgeous dog, and a Betta named Pepperoni. She loves helping people find their best lives and work toward living them. Connect with Heather at HeatherMHenderson.com.