For those of you not living in the DC area and keeping up with Washington Plaza and me through this blog, you need to know we've just lived through a week to remember.
It is a week when:
We got more snow that many of us had ever seen in our entire lives.
(And, in fact we recorded the most snowfall in the history of this great town!)
We lost power. Then got it back. And then lost power again.
We had so much snow on our rooftops causing some buildings in the area to cave in (our church roof is holding up so far which is great news).
We read and watched more movies than we thought we could in one week.
We learned to make shoveling our daily vocation. Shovel, shovel and shovel some more.
At first it was beautiful. At first it was fun. But when the second storm came, there were many of us who said to ourselves, "Who is it in this town singing, 'Let it Snow, Let it Snow?' Let them be found and stopped!"
We learned how important the right snow tools are to one's survival. (The Hagans become popular in our neighborhood by owning a metal shovel that could more easily break the layers of ice beneath the snow).
At the beginning of the week, lovely spiritually focused questions like "Where is God in all of this?" seemed easily answered. (Time with family, time doing tasks we normally don't attend to, meeting neighbors, etc).
But by Thursday, it seemed wrong to speak of some sort of providence of God to bring us closer to our neighbors in such a brutal winter. There were too many folks out there in the cold. There were too many snow plow drivers working more overtime than should be expected in one week. There were too many folks struggling to shovel their driveways that should have been inside for health reasons.
For all the snow just was, and there was nothing to do about it but live through it.
I think sometimes that is just how life goes.
We can try to over spiritualize moments-- and many pastor types try. But, does this really get us anywhere good?
Yet, as people of faith, I believe, there is always HOPE to cling to no matter our circumstances. Hope that tells us that even if our winters are dark, resurrection is always coming in the spring. There will be light at the end of our darkest days.
Julian of Norwich reminded us a long time ago: "All will be well. In the matter of all things, all will be well."
I look forward to gathering again as a community of faith on Sunday in Reson. I especially look forward to our opportunity of practicing again our hope in the resurrected Lord in worship. And, I look forward to be reminded again in community of the truth that in due time the mounds and mounds of snow will melt AND all will be well.
(Maybe by April?)
