Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his is revealed. (1 Peter 4:12-13)
The first thing I want to do when I see a snow globe is give it a really good shake, and not because I’m a violent person who enjoys shaking things. It’s the after effect that I’m anticipating, to see the snow settling gently on the scene within, which is always something designed to be charming or nostalgic.
But how about when I feel like I’m the one in a snow globe being shaken? Not so cool.
I felt that way recently, like my world was being shaken so hard my eyes were rattling, and I voiced this feeling to a friend. Her prompt and accurate reply was to remember that the snow always settles down. True.
But it also made me think that while a snow globe may be pretty even when the snow is resting at its base, the real beauty of the snow globe comes after it has been shaken. The scene is most captivating amidst the falling flakes. For a snow globe to be truly appreciated and to fully live up to the beauty it was created for, it must be shaken.
What if my life is like that? What if the only way the real power and beauty of my existence can ever be fully realized is through the shaking? I do not enjoy being shaken. It is scary. It is often painful. It is never fun.
But if the after effect is something beautiful, something captivating, something glorifying to the One who put me in this snow globe I call home, I would do well to let that knowledge influence my perspective.
The next time I feel that this world is shaking my snow globe, may I persevere through in the faith and joyful expectation that something beautiful is coming.