Looking back to your school days, what do you remember the most fondly? I remember my high school made the most amazing pecan sticky buns and cinnamon rolls. I don’t know how that happened, since I don’t recall anything else they made being noteworthy. They probably wouldn’t be served in schools today; they’d be labeled as too unhealthy. The “nerd” part of me remembers the excitement of getting new books at the beginning of the school year. They weren’t always “new,” but they were new to me. But I think the thing I remember most fondly was that rare gift of a snow day.
Internet question for today to ponder: What did you enjoy most about snow days?
Here are some internet answers. Sleep in. Watch cartoons or TV game shows. Play board games. Read. Go sledding or build a snowman. Get together with friends. Today’s kids don’t get snow days; they have e-learning days. Our goal, on a snow day, was not to learn anything!
Snow days used to arrive like a surprise note slipped under the door of the universe: All regular expectations are hereby suspended. Children receive the news with holy enthusiasm. Pajamas stay on. Cereal becomes lunch. Time stretches in marvelous ways. Adults, meanwhile, stare out the window and wonder how snowflakes managed to upset their plans.
And maybe that’s the point.
Scripture says, “He (God) gives snow like wool.” (Psalm 147:16). Wool is warm and cozy. Wool invites us to curl up and take a nap.
Snow days remind us that God isn’t always interested in efficiency. Sometimes God seems downright committed to joy.
Jesus once said, “Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” (Luke 18:17).
Children know exactly how to receive a snow day. They don’t overthink it, feel guilty, or worry about how they’ll have to make up the “lost” time. They lean into the gift. They take advantage of a day that is different from the routine. They accept it with joy.
Maybe faith looks like that sometimes: trusting that the world won’t fall apart if we take a day to sleep in, watch cartoons, and drink some hot chocolate. One day spent believing that rest can be holy and that play can be prayer.
As adults, we need “snow days,” but preferably without the snow. We need occasional days when we rewrite the day’s plan. We need days to hear God calling to us, “Come outside—let’s play!”
Today, if only for an hour, may we receive the grace of holy interruption. Let joy cancel an obligation. Go out for coffee or lunch. Laugh a little louder. And thank God for a day that didn’t go as planned. Allow heaven to call a snow day. Build a metaphorical (or real, if you prefer) snowman and call it spiritual formation.
Have a wonderful day. Stay safe and stay warm. Laugh for no particular reason, just to prove to yourself and others that you can.
