The last time I posted here we were still in the middle or this protracted winter, waiting for spring, which we hoped crouched just around the corner. But alas, there have been too few signs of the season actually springing, and nearly two months have passed.
I had planned to be sitting on my on my porch by this time in April, but I'm not. I'm watching thick flakes fall on the inch of snow quickly accumulating. Everyone in Minnesota is sick of snow. I love winter, and I'm sick of snow. People are starting to complain about being stuck in an eternal, Christmasless winter.
But this snow is good. No, this snow doesn't fit with any of my plans. It postpones and ruins some. But I can't help delighting in it now.
How the hell is snow on April 18th good? Well, because the One who sent it is good. We have a good Father, who cares for his children. My goodness, his plans certainly are not predictable, and often time incomprehensible. Sometimes the world works in terrifying ways. But it is good.
Is it over-spiritualizing to be thankful for this snow. To point to divine providence. I don't thinks so. Trusting God is a strange, unexpected journey. But I haven't found him to be wrong yet. Sure, a snowstorm is a little thing, but it belongs with the rest of my heart: surrendered to His will.
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