A Song for the Snow
by Katherine Britton
"I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry… He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord." - Psalm 40:1,3
I have previously written of the hilarity that ensues when Virginia wakes up to a blanket of snow. It's true that I have not had much experience getting stuck in the stuff myself. My idea of roughing it has included a snowsuit, an hour of playfulness, and then an afternoon of curling up by the fire with a good book in my own house. After this weekend, however, I can count myself among the woeful victims of southern incompetence in the snow.
"Woeful" is perhaps an exaggeration, as my weekend still involved a warm house after an hour of playfulness. It's just that the house was three hours from my own, and I was supposed to be home, not stuck in the mountains. But the roads' lack of guardrails and our lack of four-wheel drive extended this whimsical getaway beyond the expected.
My fellow snow-day partakers included a delightful mix of thoughtful, hilarious, and gracious women, but the mood visibly fell when we realized it would be another 24 hours until we could escape each other's company. All of us thought of the husbands, kids, family, and ordinary comforts awaiting us back in Richmond. The trials of waiting an extra day - and potentially burning vacation time with people I liked! - had me calling home with a voice that, I confess, had a little quaver.
Granted, if we had left when we had planned to leave, I would have never faced down the growling pit bull (true story). Several irreplaceable memories and inside jokes would have waited for another time, if they happened at all. I would not have had to readjust my attitude because everything would have gone my way. I would have missed the blinding sunshine and quiet contentment of a snowy country road with beautiful friends.
God's grace shines so much more clearly in hindsight, doesn't it?
As we roadtripped back home, I thought of my teary phone call with some humor. The Lord really had put a "new song" in my mouth for that extra day, and made me slow down long enough to hear it. The desires of my impatient heart could not outlast that.
Intersecting Faith & Life: True joy finds its source and inspiration in God. Too often, I want God to sing my own song, to follow along my own plans, rather than replace it with a "new song." And yet, some of my best memories are from times when I was clearly not in charge of a situation. Are you willing to sit quietly and wait for this new theme?
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