All Things Are Possible

A week of weather miracles. Those in Virginia don’t consider the lined up and back-to-back blizzards anything but frustration at this point. But this is my second snow blog in a week’s time. And the amazing thing is that the second storm occurred in South Carolina – snow on Wyboo! Who would have believed it?

And the total amazement, the jaw-dropping disbelief is the point. I had been home only 5 days after traveling to northern Virginia to experience the February 5th blizzard. I knew full-well, or at least assumed, that I would never see snow in South Carolina. I miss my snow!

So as the week wore on, the forecast started with a slim possibility of snow, snow showers, a winter weather watch mid-week and a winter weather warning on Thursday. And I began to believe.

I am not arrogant enough to believe that God would send snow all the way across the south just to delight me. But I do know that He is willing to teach me lessons through His amazing ways.

And if it can snow at Wyboo, anything can happen. Can I find out His will and purpose for my life? Yes. Can He use this community to accomplish mighty works? Absolutely. Am I overreacting here? I don’t think so. Because in the day-to-day process of living out life’s little boring and taxing details, we begin to doubt that miracles exist. Even if we believe God is capable of enacting wonders, we deep down just don’t trust that He will.

So I jumped around and I whooped. I went riding in the golf cart and took pictures in the dark. The snow was great. But my God was showing me that He is in control, He is sovereign, and He can and will do what He pleases according to His purposes. And because good is in His design for me, I can’t wait to see what’s next!

Matthew 19:26; Romans 8:28
Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible”…And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

Today My Favorite (Lack of) Color Is White

My stomach flipflops and my heart, while not pounding, does beat a little more quickly. A bit of panic underlies my state of complete excitement. Logic has flown out the window. Snow is on the way.

At this moment northern Virginia is my favorite place on earth. I have followed the snow and I’m so glad I did. I waffled on that decision for about 36 hours. It seemed somehow too self-indulgent to drive almost seven hours just to see snow. I was naturally coming to see the grandkids as well but I would only see them for Thursday night.

But then the rationalizing portion of my brain kicked in and I remembered a couple of things. I’m retired! And retirement exists for just this kind of thing. Plus this is not just an ordinary fluffy three inch snow. This is a storm! A monster! December 19th, the last big snow, was not only too close to Christmas but also it was Steve’s and my anniversary and I could hardly leave him then. And besides, Steve’s actually driving toward snow is never going to happen.

So I became a storm chaser.

And in the process I remembered why I so love snow in northern Virginia. Last night Cory and the kids took me out for pho, our favorite cold-weather food. Warms the soul.

Then we stopped by Safeway for, yeah, milk and bread. (I guess Cory was stocked up on toilet paper.) We walked and walked toward the store – no parking close last night – and stared at the empty space where the carts usually are. Cory said they must have moved them inside out of the weather. You know the answer to that one.

So we grabbed a small carry basket and plunged into the crowd. My smile grew as I looked around at the frantic shoppers and empty bread shelves. We made our way back to the dairy case and a small woman looked at Cory with panic in her eyes. “Can you please help me?” There were only three containers of milk left and they sat at the back of the shelves. The kids and I exchanged amazed looks as he pretty much crawled into the milk freezer.

Then this morning, I realized that I did not actually have enough food for the next six weeks. Because here, standing in the aisle at Giant, is where logic flies out the window. Somehow, never mind the Super Bowl, whole other issue, I must be stocked up for weeks. Look me in the eye and tell me that, at the most, I will be housebound for 3, 4 days at the extreme. I’m not hearing you.

Every person who lives in northern Virginia believes, really believes at this point, that we’ll be blessed to make it to church on Easter morning. Doesn’t really matter whether 2 inches or 2 feet of snow are on the way.

So I shopped for rotisserie chicken, cheese, stuff to make beef enchiladas, cold cuts, rolls, chips and salsa. And I jostled my way along with the rest of the grinning idiots who swear they don’t like snow, but aren’t we all smiling big? It’s a party in every home. For the first six hours and 3 changes of snow clothes anyway.

By Saturday afternoon, the interesting food will have been eaten; the kids will be tired of playing outside; the walls will seem a little too close. But I’ll be fine with it. Because on Monday morning, I’ll get in my car and drive back to sweet, sunny South Carolina.