“Roll it some more.”

“Is it big enough?”

“Keep going.  Just a little bit more.”

“Now?  Is it ready?”

“Oh, that’s perfect! The perfect size snowball for a snowman.  Now make another one, only a little smaller.”

My son and I went outside the other day.  The snow was beautiful.  The forgotten green grass was covered with sparkling, white snow.  Quiet stillness, crisp air and sunshine.  Even white birds flew in their v-shape pattern above us in the light blue sky.  It was a perfect day to play in the snow.  And build a snowman.

He made snow angels.  I didn’t.  I didn’t want to get my jeans too wet.  But soon it didn’t matter.  He pelted me with snowballs.  And I retaliated.  We were both covered with snow and wet spots.  Fortunately for me, the snowballs had to be small that day.  We even played on our snow-covered swing set.  I climbed and stood on a swing.  He cleared away snow as he went down the slide.  But my favorite part was the snowman.

Our snowman was the cutest snowman you’ve ever seen.  The snow would not easily pack so it was small.  We gave our little creation thin blades of grass for arms, two tiny raisin eyes and a baby carrot nose.  And we faced our new friend toward our house so we could wave back to it every day.  Until today.

It rained last night.  All that’s left of our small snowman friend is two tiny raisins and a little baby carrot sitting on the bench where we built our frozen friend that day.  The snow is gone.

My missing snowman reminds me of Psalm 1 where we see the contrast between the righteous man and the wicked man.  “And he will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in its season.  And its leaf does not wither; and in whatever he does, he prospers.  The wicked are not so, but they are like chaff which the wind drives away…For the Lord knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish,” (3-4, 6, NASB).

And Paul told us in 1 Corinthians 3 that the work we as Christians do for God will be revealed and we will someday receive a reward for what lasts through the fire.

So will the things that I do last?  Or will they melt away like that snow?

Today I choose to do the things that matter to God.  Things that will last.  Like the tiny raisin eyes of our snowman.  And a carrot nose.