Yesterday was one of the largest snowfalls recorded in my little corner of the world. And since there is no system for naming winter storms, a la hurricanes, the scramble to encapsulate it with a single word was, to say the least, a free-for-all:Snowpocalypse
Snowmaggedon
SnowtoriousB.I.G.
and my personal favorite - SNOMG
And since my little corner of the world includes the nation's capital, the 30+ inches that blanketed the area made for news. Local news. National news. Wall-to-wall news. Breathless, frantic news. Endless shots of snow plows and snow falling and snow drifts and reporters standing out in the snow sticking yardsticks in the snow when they weren't interviewing people standing out in the snow. I'm not sure if the news coverage of the snow wasn't more fatiguing than shoveling it.
(Wait. I calculated I moved 2.5 tons of snow off my deck alone. Shoveling was definitely more fatiguing.)
So we collectively bent our backs and tackled the elements. It was epic and exhausting and, in a way, exhilarating.
Today, however, is another story. Muscles ache. More work needs to be done. The comfortable habits of life, from getting a morning paper to worshiping side by side with friends, are disrupted.
And yet, after the whirlwind of yesterday there is the still small voice of today. The glitter of sunlight on the fallen snow. The quiet. The solitude. The smell of a roast in the crock pot. The warmth of a mug of coffee cupped in my hands. The peace of knowing God is with me, no matter the storms of life.
I realize this will not last. It is, after all, Super Bowl Sunday. And the snow will not shovel itself. But for the moment it is good to abide in His Presence, and remember it can be this way everyday.
And I don't always need 32" of snow to remind me.
