The Melting Snowman

Forrest Gump compared it to a box of chocolates. Disney’s Duck Tales sings about it like it’s a hurricane. James says it is like a vapor (James 4:14). Life. People view it in different ways. Today, I am going to view it like a melting snowman. I mean, didn’t Frosty “come to life one day” and “was alive as he could be?” 

Snow Fell on Alabama

Here in Alabama, we recently encountered one of those unlikely snowfalls. We ended up with three inches – a lot for these parts. As soon as we hear the word “snow,” we get excited and crazy. Schools close, we fill our cars with gas and run to the grocery store to buy bread, milk, and toilet paper. Hey, we are going to be ready – snow or not.

As it turned out, the snow fell during the night, greeting us the next morning with a glistening blanket of white. A beautiful sight, we’re happy tonight . . . but I digress!

I heard laughter outside as neighbors slowly began to appear in heavy coats, hats, and gloves. I joined them in my snowwear from when we went to Norway and Iceland. I confess a sense of satisfaction, feeling as if I got more of my money’s worth out of those wool sweaters.

Snow Kidding

Snowmen with awkward-shaped arm twigs, rock smiles, and colorful scarves began to crop up in front yards. The temperatures remained frigid throughout the day and night, but by the next day, the snow was beginning to melt and form slush. With the sun beating down on Frosty’s head, it became more like ice. I thought about how when life begins to take its downhill ride, it often starts with the head. Eyesight is challenged, requiring glasses; hair begins to gray and thin; hearing loss becomes noticeable, possibly requiring hearing aids; and the lips start to disappear, getting thinner and thinner. Facial skin also takes its toll, revealing wrinkles, sags, and age spots.  

As the snowman’s head melts, the packed, round, curvy shape it once had softens. The carrot nose and corncob pipe fall from the face onto the ground. The eyes made of rocks or coal get wonky, sinking back into the snow head. Nothing can stop the snowman from melting. Patch-up attempts are pointless. Reversal of the process is non-negotiable. It’s just the way it is. It’s a snowman’s life resembling ours in so many ways.  

Frosty knows his days are coming to an end. He accepts it. “The sun was hot that day.” The best thing to do is to enjoy whatever life is left. “Let’s have some fun now before I melt away,” he tells the children. So off he goes, running through the village with a broomstick in his hand.

Thou wilt make known to me the path of life; in Thy presence is fulness of joy; in Thy right hand there are pleasures forever (Psalm 16:11).

Each day as I drove by the front yards where these snowmen found residence, they looked less and less robust and sturdy. The sun had not been kind to them. Their plump round shapes looked more like snow heaps. Their arms were no more – useless with no function as limbs, mimicking arthritic fingers, wrists, and elbows.

The snowman remained stationary right where it was built. As we age, we find ourselves confined to our homes, not wanting to brave the outside world. Driving a car becomes a moot point since it is cumbersome and challenging, maybe even fearful due to slowed or defective reflexes.

Life has taken a turn and is headed to the place Frosty went: “over the hills of snow.”

I conclude this analogy of life with a verse from Psalm 133:3. It is like the dew of Hermon, coming down upon the mountains of Zion; for there the Lord commanded the blessing – life forever. Therein lies the blessing: life forever with Jehovah in the heavenly places. As believers, we have that reassurance and hope. Unlike the melting snowman Frosty who proclaims he’ll be back again someday, we won’t. Our earthly life is over as we transition into a spiritual existence.

As we get older, we look forward to the day when the snowman melts. Rightly so. I love the quote from Rebecca Pearson on the television series This Is Us as she walks toward the caboose on the death train. Looking at the conductor, she says, “I really wish that I had spent more time appreciating it [simple things in life] when it was all happening instead of just worrying about when it would end.” Let’s live in the blessing of the moment, shall we? Our meltdown will come.