[a little something a wrote a couple years ago that I was reminded of this week]
:: It's snowing this morning. It will be all day, I'm told... Blizzard conditions. Sunday is usually one of my busiest days; but not today. A blizzard tends to slow things down. Everything that I would have occupied myself with has been canceled... a storm-mandated Sabbath.
Might a blizzard have something to tell us? To a world addicted to business and identities rooted in what we do, a blizzard whispers, 'Stop. Business has been canceled. You'll have to find something else to define you today.'
Falling snow creates an eerie kind of quiet. Everything is muffled. Solid surfaces no longer respond to the stimulus of sound the way we expect them to. Inside our caves of wood and glass, we watch the snow bury our plans for the day and we feel the adrenaline of expectation drain from our systems. What we feel at this moment is telling... is it peace? Or panic?
Sometimes I honestly think that people drive off the road during a snow storm just to keep their high. 'No, this meeting can't wait. I'll have to risk it.' 'We need a movie... can't just sit around and stare at each other all day.''We should have gotten groceries yesterday... just didn't have the time.'... We'll stick our fingers in our ears and hum just to keep the quiet out. If I can drive off the road in the process; even better... The hassle and frustration of crashing just to keep the adrenaline flowing.
The blizzard says, 'Stop.' I will not be defined by what I do or produce today. I will realize how small I am, and find peace in that. I will remember those who do not have the luxury of thinking they can define themselves by their career, and those who lack walls of wood and glass to hide behind or escape from, and I will pray. I will read a book. I will listen for God in the quiet...
... Or maybe I'll go for a drive.
