The famous architect Frank Lloyd Wright used to tell a story about a time when he was 9, where he and his very reserved, no-nonsense uncle were walking across a snow-covered field. When they had both reach the far end of the field, his uncle turned him around and told him to look back at their tracks. His uncle’s tracks were a straight, perfect line directly from their starting point to where they stood. Young Frank’s tracks were wild, meandering all over the field.
"Notice how your tracks wander aimlessly from the fence to the cattle to the woods and back again," his uncle said. "And see how my tracks aim directly to my goal. There is an important lesson in that."
Frank would go on to say that he indeed did learn a lesson that day that would stick with him the rest of his life.
He determined right there and then to not to miss most things in this life, as his uncle had.
We had our first real snowfall in Clovis over the past 24 hours, something which always causes me to stop and look in childlike wonder. Watching snowflakes fall from the sky is truly one of my favorite things.
Now, does stopping my world to stare as tiny ice pillows dance in the air accomplish anything? Does it push my life goals forward? Does it further my ministry? Does it balance my budget? Does it earn me any money to provide for my family or to give to the church? Does it advance the Gospel through direct witnessing?
No. Of course not. But it wouldn’t be fair to say it accomplishes nothing. These moments of pure joy give us a glimpse of Heaven, a preview of the presence of God, where the Psalmist wrote in 16:11 is “the fullness of joy” and “pleasures forevermore.”
In this world, God gives us purpose, but we would be mistaken to think that part of that purpose isn’t to find His joy in this world.
Remember that when I hurl a snowball at your face later.