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<h5 style="padding-left: 390px;">Photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/spjwebster/">spjwebster</a></h5>
Maybe it's just me, but when I think about a life situation snowballing, I tend to think in the negative. Someone loses a job, then their house, then their marriage. Someone tells a small lie, which requires them to tell a bigger one, which results in an enormous falling out. Or a feud between two family members seeps out all over until the extended family is forced to take sides and be at odds.

<strong>The crap of life is sticky, indeed; once it starts rolling it quickly gathers more crap, increasing its surface area and growing exponentially.</strong>

<strong>But the best things in life are sticky, too, I've discovered.</strong> I usually think of good things as separate entities—gifts falling from heaven in perfect, complete form for us to enjoy, as is. I'm beginning to suspect, though, that many of those best gifts start very small, like a flake of snow that gradually gathers more goodness to it, continuing to snowball and grow. And we help move that goodness along when we give it a push, sharing it with others and making it grow even more.
<h4>Two families joining to be a bigger, better one</h4>
Last week was a beautiful illustration of this. Just two and a half years after Jason and I married, Jason's parents, sister and nephew drove from Chicago to join my family in Michigan for Christmas.

It was a wonderful few days. We ate well, shared in good conversation and laughed much. Many games were played, the kids were enfolded by many loving adults. Some hilarious karaoke was even sung (I'll never forget my mom and mother-in-law singing together—with plenty of attitude—These Boots Are Made For Walking). Our last evening together, all 12 of us sat around the table playing a game my Grandpa grew up playing with his family in the 1930s (Tip-it, a game that requires only a button and some good poker faces).

How many people can spend three days with their extended family <em>and</em> their in-laws, and not just survive it but actually <em>enjoy</em> it? Jason himself is goodness beyond what I could have ever envisioned, but this too?

<strong>This is how I see it: My life was redeemed when God began creating something beautiful out of the mess about four and a half years ago.</strong> It was to that newness that Jason was drawn, and then our three girls were gathered in as a new family, and then our friends and the small group at church that we lead.... And then you have our extended families, who don't just "get along fine," but ultimately multiply the joy when we all come together to celebrate Christmas and all the surprising turns of life that brought us together in this place.

Do you know what the best part is? <strong>From what I can tell, it just sort of goes on and on</strong>—even after the actual snow has all melted. Analogies are flexible like that.