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Footprints in the Snow

A couple days ago, my husband shoveled us out of the snow.  It was just in the nick of time too.   I believe with my all of my being that he was on the verge of having a full on attack of deliriousness as a side effect of the cabin fever he’d developed after being cooped in the house. 

It’s like we were living in The Shining.  We were trapped, confined, imprisoned for….for……months.  

It was at least days. 

Okay, okay, it was only about 6 hours.  But that’s not what it felt like.

Unlike the movie, The Shining, with a little determination, and a lot of J-Dub’s muscle behind a snow shovel, we could get out and weren’t being chased through a maze by a madman with a hatchet.  And I must admit I never witnessed twins murdered in our hallway, or blood pouring from the walls, or a small boy wiggling his finger growling REDRUM, REDRUM. 

Alright, so I guess it wasn’t anything like The Shining.    Our biggest problem was J-Dub was bored.

He said he was going out to the place.  “The place” refers to our new little piece of land with a lovely trailer house {snicker, snicker} we bought that has given us fits and convulsions since closing day way back in October.  I decided I should let the stink blow off me, and go see all the crazies driving around town in the snow, so I pulled on twenty extra layers and hopped in the passenger seat.

 

The snow was deep when we pulled up to the gate, so we decided it’d be easier to park in the county road than to drive through the deep snow. 

J-Dub led the way.  My boots were heavy and the snow was bottomless.  Lifting my knees up to my chest to take my next labored step was difficult.     I hollered out from behind him, “You’re going too fast!.”  He turned his head and hollered back, “You’re going too slow!” 

Knowing he wasn’t going to slow down and wait for me, I got the brilliant idea to walk in his footsteps, and save myself a lot of hard work.

I’m sure you’ve seen footprints in the snow before, I’m sure you’ve even walked in snow deeper than this, but if I told the truth that it was only a few inches deep instead of having you believe it was 3 1/2 feet, and that it was a very short walk to the front door, it doesn’t make me sound as tough, eh? 

Walking in someone else’s footprints in the snow makes me all nostalgic and I think of the time when there was a “for real” blizzard and I walked with my dad to a little convenience store several, and I do mean several, blocks away ill-dressed in a measly pair of tennis shoes.  We needed food.  I was about 10, he was about 40, and I realize now how terribly I must have slowed him down.  And if my memory serves me correctly, I begged to go, and he insisted I shouldn’t, until of course he gave in like dad’s sometimes do when their obnoxious daughters won’t stop whining.  He probably at that point was thinking, “Fine, go with me, learn your lesson, you little ninny headed brat.”

And I did learn my lesson.  It was cold, and I was miserable, and very glad to get home to my momma.  That day I remember walking in his footsteps, which was not easy to manage since his stride was so much longer than mine.  But all the same, I was thankful they were there.

The picture of these footprints in the snow also remind me of my Savior Jesus, and that beautiful poem Footprints in the Sand. 

“LORD, you said that once I decided to follow
you, you’d walk with me all the way.
But I have noticed that during the most
troublesome times in my life,
there is only one set of footprints.
I don’t understand why when
I needed you most you would leave me.”

The LORD replied:
“My son, my precious child,
I love you and I would never leave you.
During your times of trial and suffering,
when you see only one set of footprints,

 

it was then that I carried you.”

 

 

 Be blessed.

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Author:

I’m Angel, a.k.a. Rocket Surgeon, and these are my chronicles. I love writing and I believe our stories should be shared, so here you’ll find anecdotes of my life, loves, worries, fears, joys, and experiences. I blog about my mishaps and adventures as a wife, mommy, auntie, wanna-be writer, teacher, Texan, country/city/mountain girl, cereal killer and Jesus-freak. A few things you might discover about me: •Jesus is my everything; without Him I am nothing, but with him I can do all things •My family makes this world a better place for me to live in •I adore chickens, the live ones, although the cooked ones aren’t too bad either •I have 2 dogs: Grace and Ozzie. And one cat: Rocky Muffin •My dream job would be to raise chickens and write best sellers Thanks for stopping by. Kick off your shoes and stay awhile. I know your time is valuable and I honor you for spending a few moments here with me. I hope you find something to brighten your day, lighten your load, make you chuckle and remind you of the good in the world. “When you look for the bad in mankind, expecting to find it, you surely will." Pollyanna I’m always eager to meet new online friends, so leave a comment and introduce yourself.

7 thoughts on “Footprints in the Snow

  1. You know, Dad and I talked about that just the other day. I went too, but I guess you don’t remember that part. It wasn’t several blocks…closer to a mile and you’re right. It was miserable! That snow was up to my 12 year old knees. He said now that he looks back he’s glad we have that memory, even if it was torture for him at the time…:)

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    1. different memories, i remember that day well. angel, you had on pair of high heeled showgirl boots, think jo had boots, too, although both you girls feet were soaked by the time we got home.
      remember the red rocket, it made it as far as the bird house before being overcame with snow…or was this the time the drug store roof collapsed out in the mall? both times we made a memory. how strange, i can’t remember a memory.

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  2. First of all, I think I remember that blizzard. Was it around 1986? Haha!!

    I think the scripture was what I needed this morning. I am going through a rough patch with my job and I needed that.

    Thank you!

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  3. I remember my mom didn’t even send me in a jacket to school that day! Apparently the weather men were way worse with predictions then. Loved this story. How often does Jesus carry us through our tough times? How many people’s footsteps do we follow? And how many are following ours. Especially those of us that are gifted teachers. 🙂

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