What's a Little Snow?

I grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and have spent most of my adult life in or around Chicago, so I’ve seen a lot of snow. This weekend’s ten inches barely counts.

Well, it did keep some people away from church and reduced our attendance by around half. It also got some of us talking about when it was appropriate to cancel church.

My father always said that he would have the worship service if there was even one person in the congregation. That was before e-mail and systems that shoot a message to multiple telephone numbers at once, so it wasn’t as easy to cancel church as it is these days. Still, I don’t think that was his reasoning. Daddy just couldn’t imagine denying anyone the fellowship and spiritual nourishment that comes with worship.

That’s what I missed after the blizzard of 1979. The picture shows my roommate standing in front of my car several days after the blizzard. I was living on the north side of Chicago and attending a church that was a 10-15 minute el (elevated train) ride away. But the el and most of the buses weren’t running, and I certainly wasn’t going to drive.

There was a church about six blocks from my apartment, so I called to confirm that it was still having a service. Then I started walking. No, not walking. I trudged through snow that was higher than my knees. Twenty minutes and two blocks later, I was exhausted. I also realized that church would be over by the time I made it.

I really had no choice but to turn around and go back, and I know that God understood why I wasn’t in church. But I knew something was missing, and I felt the void.

Church renews me and carries me through the week, so if I can make it, I will.

And ten inches is nowhere near enough to keep me away.

Let It Snow

The six inches of snow we had on Friday wasn't the first significant snowfall this winter, and it was no big deal. Not for someone who grew up in Michigan and has spent most of her adult years in NW Indiana.

I love living in a part of the country that has four distinct seasons. And even though winter is not my favorite of the four, I love it, too.

The pristine look of newly fallen snow. The lace and spangles sewn onto trees and bushes by Mother Nature. Even the invigorating exercise when the snow is dry and easy to shovel.

Winter is great when I have gasoline in the snow blower and hats and gloves and boots to go with a nice warm coat. But since I can never be sure when that first significant snowfall will arrive, it pays to be prepared long before I expect it.

Death is like that, too. Roland's father was prepared. Dad and Mom not only got their wills in order, but they planned and pre-paid for their funerals. They even set aside the clothes they wanted to be laid out in. So when Dad died earlier this month, there was little left to do.

Still, wills and funeral arrangements are insignificant compared to the question of where we will spend eternity. Dad was a committed Christian, and he knew his answer to that question. When death came, he was prepared to spend the rest of his life with his Father.

The first snowfall can surprise us with its timing, and so can death. Are you prepared?

Snow Art

As a full-time writer, I work at home. That meant I didn't have to go out in the Blizzard of 2011, but it also meant that I didn't get any days off work.

On the other hand, it did give me the flexibility to walk around the neighborhood and take pictures of nature's snow art before snow plows, snow blowers, and snow shovels spoiled it.

So enjoy these pictures.

Artist: the Blizzard of 2011.* Medium: snow.

* The artist graciously assigned me the copyright for these images.