Slippin’ ‘n’ Slidin’

I was feeling right pleased with myself yesterday as I anticipated cleaning the deep snow off our driveway. Two days before the blizzard, while the temperature was a crowd-pleasing twenty-nine degrees instead of zero, I hitched up the heavy blade to my little Kubota tractor. Tractor and blade were sitting dry and comparatively warm inside the garage. “All I’ve got to do,” I smugly congratulated myself, “is open the garage door, lower the blade, back out and start pushing snow.”

Indeed, the garage door opened right up, the tractor started right up, the blade lowered right down, and I started pushing snow. Made it all of three feet before the tires started spinning and the tractor stopped pushing.

Underneath the fifteen inches of snow drifted on the concrete apron of the garage, lay a thin layer of ice from the brief period of freezing rain that preceded the blizzard. Even though it was no more than a tenth of an inch thick, it was slicker than a greased flagpole. In just a few minutes of desperate maneuvering, I had wedged the blade against a small bank and had to take it off to get the tractor loose.

Even though I continued trying to move the snow with the front bucket instead of the rear blade, I frequently had to move the tractor inchworm fashion as it repeatedly got stuck in the deep snow on top of the glazed gravel. Lower the bucket against the frozen earth, use the tilting function to creep forward or backward a few inches. Repeat as necessary. Which was pretty dang often! Quite exasperating, to say the least.

Eventually, I worked my way down the four-hundred-and-fifty feet long slope to the end of the drive. Little by little, I pushed the snow toward the ditches with the four-foot bucket loader. The snow was fifteen inches deep down by the highway. It seemed to take forever to clear a path to the mailbox for the letter carrier. I didn’t have the power, the clearance, or the traction I needed.

In the midst of my frustration, I saw a neighbor pull his large tractor into the drive. I got off the Kubota and walked over toward him. He opened the door to his heated cab and smiled, “You want some help?”

“Aw, man, that would be wonderful! Yes! Thank you!”

Jay’s Ford had a six foot bucket on front, three times the ground clearance, five times the power, and enough weight for good traction. In only ten minutes or so, he had the snow pushed off the drive and over toward the ditch. It would have taken me two hours, assuming I could even get it done.

There are situations in life in which we simply don’t have the right equipment or sufficient power to reasonably accomplish the task at hand. Thank God for good neighbors!

And for sending his Spirit.

Even when we feel overwhelmed and helpless, the Helper provides that which we need, that which we cannot supply ourselves. Trying to do things on our own, we will flail and flounder and end up in the ditch. Through Christ, though, we are more than conquerors. In our weakness, his strength is perfected.