The Snowman's Broken Arm--and My Lack of Value

A week and a half ago I ended up at the goodwill store in North Platte, Nebraska, on our way home from spending Thanksgiving in Colorado with our children. Danny had bought himself a small, used car in Denver, and when it reached North Platte, it was acting up. While Jonathan was helping him make a repair, Crystal, Hannah, and I shopped blissfully at the goodwill. It was blissful because I wasn’t rushed. It’s a rare occasion that I ever have the leisure to shop without rushing, but with the car repair going on, I could even go into the Christmas decor section and drool over Christmas decor.

 

I found a wooden plaque that said, “O Come Let Us Adore Him” with the nativity scene, and I put it in my cart. Then I found yet another thing I liked well enough to buy for a whole $6.95. It was a ceramic snow man, hollow for a candle inside, and on the front it read, “You Warm My Heart.” Yes! That was the one other Christmas decoration I would allow myself.

It was old fashioned.

It was cheery.

It was heartfelt.

 I stuck it in the cart and went about shopping, adding a beautiful Grandmother’s scrap book to my collection of collectibles. The only trouble was that when I dropped the scrap book into the cart, I heard a clunk that did not sound like good news.

It was not good news. The ceramic snowman I had fallen in love with had ceramic stick arms, and the stick arm broke off!

I stood there with anything but :the doxology on my mind. Anything but “Amazing Grace.” I was so bummed it wasn’t funny.

I mean, I hardly ever get anything for myself. Hardly ever get mere decor for my house, especially Christmas stuff. Then I find something meaningful and cute, and I actually make the difficult decision to part with a few dollars--and then it breaks--get this--before I even arrive at the checkout!!!!

 All I could think, when I thought of all sorts of people around me who have hundreds and umpteen Christmas decorations around their house and yard, is that I must not deserve any. I am so not worth anything that I don’t even deserve to get my less-than-seven-dollar snowman to the clerk before it meets its destiny of brokenness.

 I grumped out loud. When the clerk came by, I apologetically told her what happened and asked if I should pay for it. She assured me it happens all the time and took it away. At least I did not have to pay for the broken snowman that was all I deserved. 

I was bummed for a while, unable to quite figure out what I was so upset about. It was hard to believe I might be a little bit mad at God. It was just about a silly snowman, wasn’t it? And about how breaking it made me feel valueless, right?

 

That evening after supper, I brought to the table an article from a piece of mail. A little devotional was on the front, and Jonathan read it out loud--a story about how the author discovered a little bird nest while chopping foliage with his machete in a foreign country. And how he had to find the baby birds that had fallen out and return them to the nest. And then he quoted what Jesus said about the sparrow, and how “you are of more value than many sparrows.”

It hit me between the eyes.

 I felt guilty for being bummed in the goodwill store--and comforted all at the same time. God saw a very human mom who loves to see the beautiful decorations other people have but who doesn’t have the skill or gift or money to do up Christmas herself in new, fresh ways as she’d like. And He just let her know once again, that ceramic snowman or no snowman, she has great value in His eyes.