This week, Minnesota got hit with a late winter snowstorm, going from the high 40s to shivery and covered in a good four inches of snow.
For a day, I was able to sit at my desk and appreciate the sun making the carpet of white outside shimmer. Eventually, though, I had to go out and uncover my car — I had a doctor’s appointment to go to.
My condo is an end unit right next to one of the main exit doors. But it sits in the rear of the building. The sidewalk I use to get to my car sometimes doesn’t get cleared right away because it’s not used as much as the front pathways. That meant that, although a renovation crew had cleared the small part of the sidewalk they needed to get to another condo they were working in, there was still a lot of snow left to deal with.
When I got my car all set to go, I was tempted to just trudge back to my condo and leave the sidewalk. The temperature already had warmed above freezing. That felt nice, but it also meant the snow had become wet and heavy. It would be a pain in the keester to shovel the sidewalk. Why not just go back inside, grab my things, and head out to my appointment like I’d planned?
But I started shoveling.
“Not my job” is not the point
Some of it was pure compulsion. One of my pet peeves is a job half done, and a half-cleared sidewalk fell into that category.
But I also knew the people in my building. Some of them were elderly. Some of them had little kids. If I shoveled the sidewalk, they would have an easier time. I wanted that for them.
As I finished one main part of the sidewalk, another resident drove by and called out to me.
The crew is coming.
Don’t hurt yourself.
I appreciated that the resident wanted to spare me unnecessary discomfort and was looking out for me. I suppose it did look like I was struggling in a pretty ridiculous way — it’s not easy for a 4’8″ person to yield a full-sized shovel of heavy snow over and over again. And there is value in making sure that the right individual is assigned to the right job. That translates to efficiency and safety.
But if I am not willing to get a little bit uncomfortable for other people, how honest is my caring?
If I am not willing to suffer a bit, how can I say I am passionate for anybody?
That’s what passion means. In its origin, it doesn’t mean you enjoy or get excited by something. The word comes from the Greek word πάσχω, which means “to suffer.”
That’s why we talk about Christ’s passion on the cross. He suffered.
The fact that the crew was coming and someone else could do the job wasn’t the point. The point was whether I was willing to make a sacrifice on behalf of other people so that they didn’t have to wait for a good thing.
Are you willing to accept small moments of preparation?
We all have shovel-the-sidewalk moments in our lives where we have to choose whether we will do the work. They are important in the present for their immediate good influence, but even more so because they train and condition us to endure greater, more difficult jobs down the road (Matthew 25:14-30). Just as a person can acclimate and learn to handle time in extreme conditions by gradually extending the exposure they have, so too, can a person learn to tolerate larger and larger exposures to harsh spiritual conditions. We cannot run the good race God has called us to participate in if we don’t first take a single step.
When the small, still voice speaks, listen
You might not have a sidewalk to clear today. But when you hear that little voice that tells you to do the small thing you do not particularly want to do that would show love and care for others, listen. It isn’t just your brain messing with you. It’s the same small, still voice Elijah heard in the cave (1 Kings 19:11-13). With the softness necessary to ensure you don’t bolt in the opposite direction, it’s offering you a moment of preparation. The quicker you respond and take that moment, the faster God will entrust you to carry the heavier loads that make a bigger difference.