Snow No!

 

What can you do?

Oh the weather outside is frightful,
But the fire is so delightful,
And since we’ve no place to go,
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

I’m listening to Ella Fitzgerald singing this classic, Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!, and she sounds so cheerful.  But I’m not buying it.

I have to admit that I feel anxious when it snows.  And it reminds me of an oft-repeated phrase around here: “Control is the antidote to anxiety.”  I guess the corollary to that is “What I can’t control makes me anxious.”

What an illusion it is that I’m in control, ever.  What a laughable fallacy that I’m master of my own fate, controller of my own destiny, or even planner of my own day.  I’m a grasshopper, spiritually speaking.  I wrote about that (with gratitude even) a few days ago in a post called 300 Sextillion Stars, The Cattle on a Thousand Hills, and My Grasshopper Status.

But now I’m being put to the test, with snow falling fast.  Do I mean it that I’m content being a simple little creature in God’s vast universe (even as I am vastly significant to him, to the point of him knowing the number of hairs on my head, as Scripture says) and yielding to whatever he has in mind for this day (including snow, sleet, rain or a tsunami)?

Yes, on one hand, I do mean it.  I can preach and mean it about how God’s ways are not our ways and are in fact higher than ours.  And I can sometimes really know and feel peace about the fact that I hardly have a clue what should be in my life, and I know that God’s plans are better than what I’d come up with, given my limited knowledge of the universe and, well, of anything much.

But the gift of this snow is a glimpse into my deeper heart, and I have to say that I don’t like the way snow makes me feel out of control.  The way it may change my (admittedly simple and minimal) plans today.  The way I always feel tardy in getting on with the shoveling.  The way I wonder, “How long will this last, and will I be stuck at home (in spite of the fact that I generally choose and prefer home)?”  When I may not have other options, I feel nervous.

The facts don’t support a need for panic.  But really, which facts do?  When is panic appropriate?  If nothing can separate me from the love of God, and if the love of God is the ultimate joy, then what exactly is the concern?  I’m already sitting square in the center of the perfect place, and I know it.

So when I’m panicking (or — more accurately — feeling vaguely anxious and out of control), obviously I think something does matter more than my position in God’s eyes, something does trump my location in the center of his purposes. And that something is a need for control.

Control is antithetical to a posture of abiding.  Wanting to wrest control from God is the opposite of taking up Jesus’ easy yoke.  Feeling like I need to know what my day will hold is a trust-busting power grab.  Clutching at my own plans is a joke. As if my white knuckles can transcend what is. As if I even know what should be.

What do I know?  I’m a grasshopper.  And there’s a lot of joy in that, once I wrestle my countervailing tendencies to the ground.  For it means that I don’t have to decide on the weather, spin the planets, create the eventual spring flowers or do much of anything, really, other than to stay inside and listen to Ella Fitzgerald.

Since it doesn’t show signs of stopping, I’m glad I’ve bought some corn for popping.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!


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~ by Cary on December 16, 2010.

2 Responses to “Snow No!”

  1. That girl in the photograph looks like she’s having a great time!

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