Notice

I was tired. It had been a long day. And all I wanted to do was make myself a cup of coffee and decompress after the work day.

But it was snowing. And the running hug I received from one of my daughters immediately reminded me that just because I thought I was exhausted and had taken off the “employee” hat, my “mom” hat was now fully in play.

So I told my girls they had better get out of their slippers and into some socks. We were going outside.

We “suited up”: boots, snowpants, thick jackets, hats, mittens. As I finally zipped up the final piece of outerwear (mine), I glanced at the clock and couldn't help but quickly calculate just how much time we'd have outside if I still wanted to make it back inside to cook a timely dinner.

It hardly seemed worth it.

We opened the front door as the snow fell soft and silent. Just like a snow globe. The girls immediately took to their silly play, swapping brightly-colored mini shovels and creating snow angels. I looked around and said a silent prayer that the snow would be packing snow and that a snowman could be created – not only because I like making snowmen but because if I couldn't, I wasn't sure what else I could do.

I wasn't sure I knew how to play.

It wasn't long before the girls were calling me, almost frantically from the side of the house.

Mom, Mom, Mommy! You need to come here – there's real snowflakes on the ground!

I had to laugh to myself as I drudged my way through the snow to where they both knelt on the sidewalk...”real snowflakes”.  Aren't they all?, I wondered.

But I soon noticed what they meant.

I had seen snowflakes before. But never like this. These were big, fat, thick snowflakes. They looked as though they had been punched out of construction paper.

I told the girls I was going to run in the house and grab my camera. They squealed with excitement. While I snapped image after image of the paper punched snowflakes, my daughter said something I hope I don't soon forget.

I love it when you're out here with us, Mom.

Oh, my sweetheart. I love it, too. If only I'd slow down more often to notice His gifts, even when I'm convinced I am too exhausted to see them.