Snowflakes and Secrets (Lent Day Two)
For those of us who live in the northern half of the northern half of the world, winter is slowly creeping away right now. The idea of spring is just on the horizon, but at any moment, we could have a snowstorm that pummels us.
I am a snow fan. I love the way the white covers the messy ground and makes everything seem clean again. It’s probably why I refuse to move forever to some warm climate where I won’t be able to peek out of my window on a winter morning and watch the white frozen geometrical flakes fall to the ground.
But you know my favorite of all? When there are only a few, and they are spaced out and somehow they get stuck on my car windshield frozen individually so that I can see them in all their one-of-a-kind beauty. I am dumbstruck that there are no two alike. Never have been and never will be.
Which brings me ever-so-slowly to my point.
It’s the same with us.
Every single one of us.
There is not another person quite like us. Of course, no one else looks exactly like us (except maybe for that one girl, Noreen, in my town when I was a young mom and everyone thought we were the same person and we got called each other’s names all the time and it was super annoying and kind of fun all at the same time, but I digress).
No one else looks exactly like us, but more importantly, each one of us has unique abilities, strengths, quirky habits, struggles and experiences that provide just the right combination to help us love each other well.
The things that make our heart come alive, what saddens us, how we love to spend our time, and our personality are completely unique to us. No one else can be us or is us.
(Secret: My kids can certainly attest that I am the only person in the world who eats Lays Potato Chips with a glass of milk while watching crime shows preferably with a dead body at the beginning.)
Okay, back to our regularly scheduled, more serious programming.
We are in the second day of Lent.
Lent can feel like it's about how particularly bad we are, how uniquely weak we are, and how we need to strip away all of the noteworthy and hidden yucky parts of ourselves.
But I wonder if it really aims to capture something else completely.
What if Lent is not about how particularly bad we are, but how much we personally need.
What if it's not about how uniquely weak we are, but how specially human we are, with all the complexities that are intertwined in that reality and it's okay to lean into that place.
And what if Lent calls us to strip away all the parts that are NOT us so that we can uncover our most true and beautiful selves, the space where we can receive love fully and give love freely.
So next time, you see the snow fall (even it’s in a sappy Christmas movie or on a video posted on social media by your northern half of the northern half of the world friends), remind yourself of this truth:
You are one-of-a-kind.
And you have permission to find out exactly what that looks like.
Inside and out.
And to uncover and discover the most true and beautiful you.
I’m on the same journey myself and I’m waving my pom poms, frantically cheering you on.
From my heart to yours, Esther
(Secret: I'm off to eat some potato chips...oh I can't. It's Lent. I will have to wait until Saturday night - more on that later.)
P.S. I'm kind of hoping it doesn't snow again. I'm secretly ready for robins and crocuses.