Snowed In With Jonas

The roads were striped with brine, and pick-up trucks roamed the streets, already flexing their plow muscles, all too eager to take on the first few flakes that dare fall in their path.

A large handful of people – the wise ones – find themselves sharing comfort and comradery at the library, stocking up on books and DVDs should the power go out and we are forced to resort to something other than streaming.

Everyone else has flocked to Redner’s in the American first world fear of running out of bread, milk, eggs, and toilet paper.

Not wanting to be one of the five foolish virgins who forgot to bring oil for her lamp while waiting out the night for the bridegroom (otherwise known as “Jonas”), I’ve joined the crowd at the library and choose to rejoice at the coming storm. (I’ll admit I also felt a tinge of trepidation and followed like a mad sheep into Redner’s for just a few items I didn’t want to be caught without.)

Even the hater came home from work on Friday with a flutter in his stomach. Sure, he gets stuck with the shoveling, but – two feet? This could be fun. Swim meet cancelled on Saturday, church services cancelled on Sunday. We’re not going anywhere.

And we didn’t. Saturday morning shed light on the fury of the night, revealing way more snow than anticipated, and no, it’s not done. You would have thought it was Christmas the way the boy grinned and giggled and couldn’t wait to suit up.

Okay, kids. Waffles it is. (Good thing I got maple syrup at Redner’s.)

Some mornings are meant for reading. The kids found their cozy nooks and dove into the library stockpile and their favorite authors (currently reading some Cynthia Lord, Wendy Mass, and Stan and Jan Berenstain).

Lunchtime presented yogurt parfaits with homemade granola at the request of one girl. (BB’s had kiwi and blueberries. We are a rich country indeed.) Soup simmered on the stove for dinner, and in between there were a few games, more reading, and more banter in the snow.

Lest you think it was all fun and games, human tendencies proved true, and our snow day in this household was not all daffodils and roses. A loud and cheerful greeting in the morning will be taken as a curse. The pioneer boy’s early excursion in the 10″ of snow ended in tears and disappointment as he realized there might actually be something as too much snow for a short kid. The middle child, the one who loves comfort and warmth and predictability, took her first step outside and got snow in her boot. She promptly gave up. The other two began throwing snow in each other’s faces. Funny – at first. Then, not so much. Someone didn’t replace the toilet paper roll. The words of the reckless can pierce like swords. Someone carelessly brought in snow to saturate my formerly dry and cozy socks. Tightened online security locks you out of your own account. My book is not quite what I was looking for. Oh wow, we actually do have to shovel this snow…

But a new morning brings new mercies. Sunday morning’s sunlight sparkles on our thirty plus inches. We can’t see our cars, but God bless the neighbor who gave us a head start by blowing off our sidewalk. I watched him from the window, coffee mug in hand, while the sky was still pale pink on the horizon and solitude gave me a few minutes of peaceful silence before dawn broke like a bull through the hall. (The bull actually being the boy.) A few finches frolic in the bushes, thankful for the sun. Sister Bear made oatmeal for Brother Bear as she gave ear and he rambled on about his dream. There are more kiwi and blueberries, chicken broth, maple syrup, and coffee. And in a few minutes our family will gather together in an act of worship, laying down our human tendencies at His feet, thankful for forgiveness and daily bread, and the strength to shovel snow.

Lord knows we’re going to need it today.

References have been made to the Parable of The Ten Virgins in Matthew 25; Proverbs 27:14, 12:18; and The Shins’ brilliant line in the song New Slang.

 

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