Snow, Confinement, and the Journey Through It
I’ve lived in Virginia and North Carolina my entire life, which means I’ve been spoiled with mostly mild winters and a life free from the constant inconvenience of snow. And yes, I said inconvenience. Snow keeps me inside when I want to be out, traps me in place when I want to move, and generally disrupts my plans. It’s a forced confinement, a weather-imposed pause that I have never quite learned to appreciate.
But then there was that one night. The night I underestimated just how much snow can shift not only my movement but my entire perspective.
The Drive That Should Have Never Been That Long
I was headed to my alma mater, Longwood University, for an event. A simple 2-hour and 15-minute drive from North Carolina to Farmville, Virginia—something I had done plenty of times before. The forecast called for snow late that night, so naturally, I planned my departure to avoid it. Simple, right? Well, the best-laid plans mean nothing when you push them back by 30 minutes to an hour because you’re caught up in the moment. That decision cost me dearly.
A drive that should have been routine turned into a six-hour marathon of questioning my choices, my survival, and my sanity. At points, I could see absolutely nothing. The roads were packed with snow, visibility was nonexistent, and my 2013 GMC Terrain was doing its best, but let’s be honest—it wasn’t built for this level of mess. Every mile felt like a battle between my will to make it home and the forces of nature that had other plans.
I had so many moments of Why did I even go? Am I going to make it? What if I just pull over and wait? But then, amidst all the uncertainty, two things kept me steady:
God. Because when the road ahead is completely unclear, faith is the only thing you can lean on.
Kofi. My little Yorkipoo was waiting for me at home, and if nothing else, I needed to get back for him.
I made it home—eventually—white-knuckled and exhausted, but in one piece. And yet, that journey stuck with me far beyond the stress of the drive.
The Significance of Snow
Fast forward to February 20, after I had just returned from a weeklong work trip in Long Beach, California, where the weather was nice, warm, and the complete opposite of what was happening back home. North Carolina had been hit with snowfall, and as I sat there watching it from the warmth of my home, I started reflecting.
Snow, for all its inconvenience, has significance. It forces us to stop. To slow down. To wait. It covers everything, blanketing the world in a fresh start, a literal wiping away of what was. And isn’t that just like God?
Much like leadership, relationships, and even the state of the world, we resist the moments that confine us, that make us pause, that challenge our ability to move freely. We hate discomfort. We push against anything that limits us, even when that limitation is the very thing designed to shift our perspective.
In leadership, sometimes we need to be forced to pause and reflect before moving forward. In relationships, we have to sit in moments of stillness to see what truly matters. In life, we have to understand that God’s confinements are often His protections.
Snow, as frustrating as it is, teaches patience, endurance, and trust. It reminds us that we don’t control everything, that sometimes all we can do is keep moving forward even when we can’t see the road ahead. And most importantly, it reminds us that when we finally get through it, we gain a new appreciation for the journey.
So maybe—just maybe—I can find a way to stop hating snow so much.
…Or maybe I’ll just keep checking the forecast and planning better. Either way, I know God is in control of the journey.
Your Reflection:
Where in your life do you feel like you're stuck in a snowstorm, struggling to see ahead? Maybe it’s time to stop fighting against the moment and start looking for the lesson in it. Because whether you like it or not, the snow will fall—the question is, how will you navigate it?
