Lessons Learned with a Foot of Snow on the Ground

Opening the mailbox, I felt my heart quicken at the sight of the beautiful purple flowers on the cover of the seed catalog. Every February it arrives, along with the hope that cold winter days and even longer nights will end. I chuckled to myself as I remembered what happened a year ago.

Last year was a learning year for me. When the same catalog arrived, I immediately dog-eared pages. I planned a diagram of my vegetable garden. Dreams of deer-deterrent flower borders and best-paired partners on homemade trellises consumed me. By the end of the day, I’d submitted an online order. I couldn’t wait the extra time to send the order through snail mail. Never mind that a foot of snow still layered the ground. This garden planning became my saving grace.

A week later, there was still a foot of snow on the ground.

Donning my snow boots and hat, I trudged to the mailbox daily at 3 pm to see if my seeds had arrived. By Friday, they had. The giddy excitement accompanying me to the house was not only unnatural, but unhealthy. My family realized this when I traded seed organizing over making dinner that night. I already had soil, seed starter pots, labels, greenhouse covers, and a special light, courtesy of Amazon Prime. As I got to work, I could only focus on one thing—nurturing my tiny seeds to life.

Two weeks later, I had the promise of new life as all my little garden plants started to pop their heads out of their dormant phase, seeking sunshine, and fresh air.

There was still a foot of snow on the ground.

“It’s fine,” I thought. “I’ll just keep the plants growing in the house until it’s time to transplant them outside.” Except that left no space on the dining room table for, well, dining. So I moved the sprouting plants to a table in our entryway and continued to care for them for the next month.

The thing is, we live in rural Pennsylvania. In the snow belt. And it was only March. 

There was still a foot of snow on the ground. 

I realized that I would now need to keep these things alive for at least two, if not three, more months. Ugh. Why didn’t I think this through? What started as a fun way to deal with winter restlessness became a dreaded burden. In fact, when our planned family vacation came in May, the weather was still too cold to put the plants in the ground. By the time we returned, almost all my plants were dead. Great. All that time and effort and money, with nothing to show for it.

I think we can all get like that. We can get ahead of ourselves, forcing something before its time. The restlessness of winter blinded me to that reality. As I started to feel that same sense this year, I turned to something else. 

But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble (Matthew 6:33–34, ESV).

Seek first the kingdom. Looking around at my friends, my family, my people, I started to see needs. A meal for a friend having a baby. A handwritten note to a family member across the country. Warm coffee with a close friend. Extra snuggles with my quickly-growing tween. 

Seek first the kingdom. I think many times we are so distracted trying to find things to keep us busy that we miss the things God tries to show us He is busy with. He is always at work and wants us to join Him in that work. Not that He needs us, but because we need Him.

This year, when the seed catalog arrived, my daughter and I spent a fun morning cutting out pretty pictures of flowers, using them to make a card for our elderly neighbor. We took the card, along with homemade cookies, over for a nice afternoon visit. And guess what? 

There was still a foot of snow on the ground.