Little Townhouse on the Peninsula

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.

Fear is the Mindkiller

I was driving home the other day, and started thinking about fundamentalism and fear. It seems to me that there are three things that terrify fundamentalists (at least the Christian ones):

• The Mystery of the Father
• The Mercy of the Son
• The Movement of the Holy Spirit

Fundamentalism at its core, no matter the stripe, lusts for control. They strive to keep everything in a nice, airtight compartment that answers all questions, defines all doctrines, and allows for a paint-by-number approach to life. This closed system approach is threatened by the idea that God the Father cannot be bound up by our clever theologies, that God the Son would offer grace to all (even the enemy-du-jour), that God the Spirit would breathe life into His people and at the same time blow over their house of cards.

But as I reflected further, I decided it goes deeper than that. This appeal of control in the face of a fear-filled world is what attracts people to fundamentalism. We are all uneasy with a God who is transcendent, who doesn't fit our little schemes of life...in fact, exposes them as schemes. It is much easier to find a rule book and try to follow it. The only problem is, rule book living creates narrow, rigid people who either become hateful, spiteful religionistas or collapse into disbelief and indifference when life throws them an exception to the rules.

It seems to me that the only way forward is to forsake fear of the world and return to a fear of the Lord (which, after all is the beginning of wisdom). The decision I have to make every day is whether I am going to seek the Lord and His will, no matter what, or shuffle along following after my own wants and desires. God is Mysterious, and Merciful, and Moves across His creation.

Open my eyes, illumine me, Savior divine.