What I Learned From My Snow Shovel
Boy oh boy! We’ve just been hit with a whopper of a snow storm. This has been perhaps the must snow-immersed winter in recorded weather history. As a pastor, I’ve felt the futility of my petition as I pleaded with the sovereign Lord “Please God, just let us have church.” I and many other pastors must honestly admit that we plead out of a passion for worship and preaching, but also out of the reality that missing Sundays worship services means a reduction in giving. Utility companies don’t make allowances for “acts of God” when it comes to paying the bill. But, as one of our associate ministers so called it, this is “be still” weather.
I like many others engaged in the task of digging out of this nearly three feet of wet, heavy snow. Even working out four days a week cannot prepare your body for the wrath of the snow shovel. The snow shovel forces us to learn lessons that may escape us without the coming of the storm. I thought it important to share some of the insights that I’ve learn for my snow shovel, which has seen more action this year than ever before.
First of all, my shovel forced me to work muscles that aren’t often worked. I woke up this morning with a mild case of soreness. The soreness is the result of twisting, turning, and lifting in ways that are unusual. It reminds me that even when I believe I’m doing what is necessary to maintain peak performance, there are still muscles that go unused. The shovel helped remind me that performance will be even greater if I were to find ways to occasionally work those unused muscles. Think of the application to ministry and our lives. If we are to become more effective overall, we have to find ways to build capacity by exercising capabilities that too often remain dormant. I can see those who have beautiful voices, but remain in the pews. I can see those who possess the gift of evangelism, but never invite others to Christ.
My snow shovel also taught me a lesson that may seem contrary to the first. It taught me that there are resources that may not be of much use in many situations, but there will come a time when it becomes very valuable. So it is with the lowly snow shovel. In most instances, who needs a snow shovel except for the occasional storm during the winter months. In mild winters,there may be no need for the shovel at all. Yet, when the crystal precipitation decides to fall, there’s nothing more valuable than the shovel. It teaches us that we cannot discount the value of any resource or any person, even when they seem not to make a contribution most of the time. There’ll come a time when what that person has to offer will be exactly what is needed
There’s so much more that I have learned from my snow shovel. I really could write a book and still have more to say. But I invite you to ponder and respond to these musings, by sharing what you’ve learned from your snow shovel. We’d love to hear.
