Sacred Cynicism

   That was quite a blizzard most of us experienced a few days ago. While the cleanup is difficult, and it does tend to interrupt life, there is a fascinating quality to blizzards. The wind rages, the snow piles up, and we look out the window knowing we are going to get a snow day when morning comes.  Often, blizzards give us the chance to slow down, relax, and re-connect with our families and loved ones. These storms are so special they go by the names of the years they occurred, 1967, 1978, and now 2011. Most of us just watched with fascination out our windows.

    Except for my wife and I. My wife is a nurse, and in her position, she has to get to work. It is literally a matter of life and death. So in the midst of the blizzard, I drove my wife to work around 9:30 PM. The wind raged, the snow reduced visibilities to near zero, and even the flashes of lightning accompanied our four mile drive to where she works. What an absolutely terrifying drive. The snow was quite deep in the road, and I was not quite sure if I was on the correct side of the road. Not that it mattered, since there was almost no one out in the storm. I knew it was going to be a tough drive, but I had no idea just how bad it was going to be.

     There were a few times during the trip when a gust of wind came up, and a wall of snow would hit the car and visibility dropped to absolutely nothing. At another time of year I could have just pulled over and stopped, but in the midst of this storm stopping was not an option. If I stopped, there was the real possibility that I would be unable to get going again – I needed to keep the momentum going to keep from getting stuck in the snow. So in the snow, with no visibility, I just kept going.

    Perhaps this is a poor analogy, but sometimes we get caught in the blizzards of life. We know the way we want to go, but the storms of life can get so bad we cannot see what direction to go. To make matters even worse, it seems we cannot hear anything either, try as we might. When we look ahead, it seems we cannot see anything other than just our next step. So we just put one foot in front of the other, and hope for the best. Sometimes people come along and tell us how important it is that we know God’s plan, and if we had enough faith we would see clearly, and it will all make sense. Hogwash!

     The other night in my car it would have been one thing to say that I should see the road clearly, and if I had enough faith it would all be made clear; yet reality had other ideas. I could have prayed until I was blue in the face (for reasons other than the cold), but the blizzard was real, the way was difficult, my visibility was zero, and it was not my fault. The storm just happened. So I just kept going.  When the wall of snow hit me I kept going. I knew the road was straight, so even when I could not see it, I just kept going. And I did not stop, knowing that stopping might just strand us where we were.

       Perhaps you are in a personal storm right now, and you cannot see the way to go. First, don’t stop, don’t ever give up. There is danger in stopping, it becomes very difficult to get going again.  Second, it is good to just put one foot in front of the other. That is not a sign of weakness, it is a sign of will and often, strength. Lastly, you won’t go wrong if you keep walking straight. Even if you can’t see Him or hear Him because of the storm, God is there. These are good times to remember verse 4 from the famous Psalm 23, “Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me.” Keep going.