Blinded by the Light
I am one of those annoying people
who love snow. There is a Sunday Peanuts
cartoon (i.e. full-color!) on my refrigerator showing Snoopy doing his happy
dance and exclaiming “It’s snowing!”
That is an outward expression of my inward joy when it snows. Granted, I don’t have to shovel it – save for
cleaning off my car – and usually I am observing it from the comfort of my warm
living room (sometimes even with a cup of hot chocolate), so my experience is
skewed, but I still claim my love of snow.
Part of this can be attributed to
the fact that we (and by that, I mean the immediate community) has to slow
down, even stop, because of something we have no control over. The regular hustle and bustle just stops for
reasons of safety. During last week’s
snow storm, I received numerous text updates from the local police saying that
if you didn’t need to drive, don’t! I
didn’t, so I got to observe and enjoy.
I did offer prayers for all those
who did have to go out into that horrible weather – health care workers and
support staff, emergency responders and their support, anyone connected to
transportation, and those who were told they had to come to work by
unreasonable bosses or companies. I can understand
why those individuals don’t like snow (or any weather that impedes daily life).
I am still drawn to the quiet
that snow brings, even in the midst of blustery winds and white-out conditions.
And when the snow stops, there is
usually a small window of time when everything is quiet, and we can just be for
a moment – be still and know God is. God
is I AM.
Sadly, the moment passes all too
quickly and our doing takes over our being.
The necessities of life overwhelm our desire to be still and know God. Thankfully, God is still present in so many
ways, if we only take a moment to notice.
Another reason I love snow is the
day (or so) after the storm. Just like
with most violent weather, there is a calm after the storm. This storm unfortunately came with bitterly
cold temperatures on its heels, so we might not have noticed it this time, but
usually the sun comes out the next day in a brilliant blue sky without a single
cloud. I love looking at the bare trees
that look like crystal chandeliers sparkling in the sun. The sun reflecting off
the snow and ice can be blinding. In the
middle of winter, light bursts forth in all directions, reminding us that the
darkness will not and cannot overcome the light, even on the longest of nights.
I give thanks for living in the
Northeast of the United States at this time of year because we get a reasonable
amount of snow that offers this great light show during the Church Season of
Epiphany, the Season of Light. Granted,
the Southern Hemisphere is enjoying the long days of summer right now, but I’ll
take the snow and its light show to live into the glorious reflection of Christ’s
incarnation as the light to the world.
No matter what storms we face in
our lives, when we choose to follow Jesus Christ, the Son will shine light into
our world, should we let him. I do
believe we have the choice of allowing Christ’s light to guide us or getting
stuck in the storm. Some choose to give
in or find a false escape in drugs like alcohol or heroin. Those of us who choose the light know that it
is not easy, there is still a much work we need to do, but we know we are not
alone in doing it. God and the community
of the Church is right there with us, doing and BEING.
For 2018, consider making a goal
of being so filled with God’s light and love that it will be blinding to others,
although in a good way! Share that light
as much as possible, especially with those who seem lost or broken. We are the light of Christ in the world. Especially in (snow) storms.
In Christ,
Rev. Valerie+
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