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?
Maybe the enemy has whispered these things to you, too. And it hurts. It feels like someone has taken a knife to your chest.
But here’s the good news: We don’t have to believe the enemy’s lies.
Proverbs 4:23 warns us: “be careful how you think; your life is shaped by your thoughts.” And it’s exactly true.
If we tell ourselves that our life and work is insignificant, they will be, because our thoughts inform what we end up believing.
On the other hand, if we believe our life and work is meaningful and can make a difference, it will.
As simple as it may sound, we have to make a choice everyday to believe in ourselves. We have to believe and know that their is a purpose behind our individual journeys.
This is where the snowflake lesson I was telling you about earlier comes into play.
You could look at a snowflake and say they are all the same and their existence is all for nothing. Or, you could look at a snowflake and admire its unique personality and story. Watch closely and you will see that each snowflake follows its own path before it hits the ground. But it doesn’t just stop there. When it reaches the ground, it becomes a part of something bigger, joining together to fulfill a greater purpose with the rest of the other snowflakes who have fallen before them.
Like the little snowflake that falls from the sky, we are also part of something bigger. Our lives matter. Our work matters. Because it’s all part of God’s glorious plan.
There may be times when we don’t see how our lives play a part in the greater scheme of things, but like the snowflake, we each have a place in this world. And nothing can ever take that away from us. Not even the enemy’s lies.
So, what do we do when we feel like nothing matters? We tell the enemy to go back to where he came from, and remember the words of Romans 5:6, “When we were utterly helpless, Christ came at just the right time and died for us sinners.” Now read that verse again. Did you catch that? Christ died for YOU! And a life worth dying for, is a life worth living for.
The bottom line? You matter to God, and that’s all the matters.