Well, here I am after two days without electricity and, therefore, internet access, acknowledging that I was out of line. After all, I did almost double-dog-dare you on the ice storm and power outage stuff. Guess you showed me! However, we really need to clear up the groundhog in charge of the weather thing. I know this celebrity business and national attention must be a real high for you. After all, you are “just” a groundhog, albeit a fine specimen. But, you and I both know that the legend surrounding you seeing your shadow and foretelling six more weeks of winter is just man’s futile attempt to feel in control of future events by predicting the weather.
And, I have to say I’m really sorry for whining about my little inconveniences. So the power was out for a couple of days? We have a generator. Maybe I couldn’t do laundry and run the dishwasher and cook big meals for my family (which I really like to do when I’m home). But I was warm, had hot water for a shower, hot coffee to wake me up, and lights to read by. I don’t have to have propane to warm my home. My heart aches for the thousands of Americans who are still struggling with dangerous driving conditions and prolonged power outages, propane shortages and skyrocketing prices, and just plain old freezing cold temperatures. So, hey guys, my prayers are with you.
And, I am compelled to acknowledge the true Creator of all things, including the weather. I never really forgot Him, but was impressed anew by the reality of the wonder of His creation when I viewed the photograph shared by a friend this week.
A single snowflake caught fresh fallen on a tree trunk enthralled me with its detail. We humans try to copy nature’s beauty–fragile glittering snowflake ornaments on a Christmas tree, lacy patterns stenciled on a window, papery renditions cut by a child–but we can never match God’s detail. Ours are too symmetrical, too simple, too uniform, one-dimensional. I am reminded of the omnipresence and omniscience of God. He, we are taught, knows every sparrow, every hair on our heads. To be honest, I really don’t think He should bother remembering how many brown, highlighted, lowlighted, or gray hairs I have. I rather think that Scripture is an analogy to impress upon us the reality that God knows every detail of our being intimately, seeing the spiritual heart of each person, seeking a relationship with us, and feeling our pain when we hurt. Whether the hurt is mere disappointment or overwhelming grief or terminal illness, dark depression or the hopelessness of suicidal ideation or the helplessness of addiction, the tragedy of flood or windstorm or winter storm, He shares it with us, and we can look to Him for comfort and hope. After all, He has said, “I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11 NIV)
So, Phil, enjoy the limelight but remember who made you (and me) and who is really in control. A snowflake has reminded me.