Snow-it-all

It snowed in Little Rock this week which brought all of us to a skidding halt.
Thus, I've had snow on the brain for a few days, and here's what I've come up with.
On Monday, I was thankful for a snow day, essentially a day where doing the right thing means watching DVR'd movies and reading novels in turn. I thought about using that time wisely to critique and write...and then the commercial ended.
On Tuesday, I left at six thirty in the dark, cold morning to drive South. Or rather, God and I headed South, with a blanket in the back seat, a lot of water, an emergency banana, and two cell phones. Just in case.
My primary concern was no longer snow. I worried about ice. Ice is what gets you. One minute, you're rolling along toward your destination. Eyes on the horizon, or the ipod, you never see it coming. Then you slip, slide, and frantically try to remember if you're supposed to steer into the slide or in the direction you really want to go, and than BAM. Hello, guardrail. I was reminded that sometimes it's the things you don't see that get you. If I try to see too far ahead, or if I get too focused on what's going on inside, I'll miss the danger sparkling in front of me. The cold, abandoned cars along the road bore testament to destinations never reached. (Shiver.)
On Wednesday, after a safe and slip-free trip, most of town started rolling again, but the snow still lingers in the grass. Which brought to mind that old saying that no two snowflakes are alike. I wondered when I stopped believing that, and why.
The sheer number of flakes seems to overwhelm the permutations available for ice crystal formation. So I asked God. He didn't so much give me an answer, but did bring to mind two important things. First, the size of flakes varies, so that adds to the potential configurations exponentially. And, more importantly, HE IS GOD. So if he wants to make each and every snowflake unique, He will. My pea brain doesn't have to get it. (He didn't call me a pea brain. That's personal commentary.)
And last night, in a new women's study, He brought up a topic He's been easing into my days as of late. Uniqueness. Ephesians 2:10 is going up on my mirror in a minute. God has made us each individuals.
Really.
And on purpose.
He has done that because we each have a unique role to fill in His plan.
Really.
We're like snowflakes in that regard. He made us individual because HE IS GOD. Instead of trying to change my crystals around to look like another flake, I should revel in my own flakeness and exactly where it lands on the earth.
I'm not supposed to be my sister or my favorite author or Mother Teresa. Those are wonderful women, but part of the reason is because they are living what God has told them to live. If I want to have an exceptional life, I must go where God calls me. Even when nobody else does. When it's not popular. Or when it is popular. Easy or hard, foreign or familiar. There is no three-step program to living in God's will because God's will is unique. Like a snowflake.
So, today, although my brain is still trying to assimilate the way God works, I'm thankful for his ways and that they aren't mine. I'm thankful that my weirdness--er, uniqueness--is on purpose and not intended to be snuffed. I'm thankful that when my path seems to veer from those around me, it is not a warning, it is in fact a blessing.
And I'm thankful for snow plows.