For the man sound of body and serene of mind, there is no such thing as bad weather; every day has its beauty, and storms which whip the blood do but make it pulse more vigorously. ~George Gissing
Today in the open places, it’s hard to tell where earth ends and eternity begins.
Ground touches sky.
White meets white.
And they are one.
The wind blows bitter, and the meteorologist forecasts snow.
Lots of snow.
And winds that may blast blizzard.
They admonish us to get ready.
Just in case.
Stock the cupboards, check the flashlights, and prepare alternative heating sources.
At least we’re on alert.
I have Lil today. She has a fever with a cold, and I have a major headache. But I have a hair appointment. So I smother Lil in blankets, load up her jumper thingie, heat water for a bottle, and grab the diaper bag. We’re prepared for a couple hours in the beauty shop despite ourselves.
Yes, it takes that long to make me beautiful.
Or close to it.
Afterward, we run to the grocery store, and I fill the cart around her car seat (that weighs fifteen tons, by the way) with essentials plus some. Lots of fresh fruit and veggies and peanut butter sandwiches should get us through.
And we head home, where warmth and the aroma of crockpot stew greets us.
Where we can hunker down in safety.
We usually don’t have warnings for life storms.
They ambush us like avalanches.
And bury us so sometimes we can’t even see God.
Unless we anticipate them, knowing they can strike at any time.
And so it’s wise to keep the storehouse full day to day.
To remain one and open to the One who meets us in every need.
To stay so close that it’s impossible to tell where our heart ends and His begins.
And a nice pair of flannel jammies help.
For in the day of trouble, he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent and set me high upon a rock. ~Psalm 27:5 (NIV)