Satisfaction, Hope and a Snowman

So I'm shovelling snow for an hour and a half, last night. There was between 8 and 12 inches of snow in my driveway. This is nothing outrageous for those of you from the northern half of the country, but for a lifelong southerner, it is still a little hard to believe. I found out why my $5 waterproof gloves--the ones I've been so smug about--only cost $5.

There's certainly something satisfying about finishing the job...pulling the car into the garage over a completely shovelled drive and knowing that I wouldn't have to deal with the ice tracks that form if you drive or park on the snow before shovelling. But there were certainly times when my back was tired, my ears were cold and a gust of wind had just blown most of a shovelful of snow right back into my face--I couldn't help but think about being in Alabama or Louisiana and complaining because of the horrid 50 degree cold. It's hard to appreciate what you have when it's not exactly what you want.

When are things exactly like I want? Will they ever be? Should they ever be? Are we ever supposed to get terribly comfortable in this world? Some say that this life is only a preparation for the next so we should divorce ourselves of all comforts and anything that speaks of permanency down here. Lay up our treasures in heaven.

Some say that we can have our very best life right now--that faith and a positive mindset along with discipline and good behavior can make life now a "heaven on earth." That we can expect the result of our faithfulness to be a measurable blessedness.

I don't know. It seems to me that the bible tells us we can expect both, so maybe it's a seasonal thing. Or maybe the truth is somewhere in the middle. I think it often is.

Maybe I should read 1 Peter and think of the people around the world that really have it rough.

My feet are cold. Maybe today the kids and I will build a snowman.