Snow Angels

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Remembering back to my first winter as a widow, 5 years ago:

Snowy bushesAs we watched a picture-perfect snowstorm out the window today, I was reminded of the snow-related care Nate put into action for our family. Before our teenage kids would drive away in a storm, he’d always check to be sure they had a snow scraper/brush in their cars, often brushing them off before they got out there. He would always clean my car off, and if his schedule allowed, would volunteer to drive me wherever I needed to go, if a storm was in progress.

Our extra-long driveway was a bear to shovel, but he did more than his share, and if he was short on time, he’d still shovel a path to each car door. He was faithful to check the windshield wiper fluid in the cars and to add more if needed.

We began thinking about buying a snow blower after shoveling that long driveway for 15 years. When a neighbor died and his widow offered to sell us his blower, Nate took her up on it. “But,” she said, “I’ll need someone to clear my driveway, too.”

That winter Nate began blowing snow off her driveway after every storm. He always did hers before ours, sometimes in his business suit and dress coat in the pre-dawn hours of a frigid weekday morning. Often he’d get hers finished but didn’t have time for ours, slipping and sliding away in his sedan on a rush to the commuter train.

I often think of Nate’s willingness to help this widow. Despite the major inconvenience of keeping her driveway clear, he never once complained about doing it. Since our neighbor had no one else to help her, he felt it was his duty to do so. The Bible says a great deal about widows, and God makes it clear he’s pleased with those who help them.

God was watching Nate blow the equivalent of mountains of snow off our friend’s driveway over the years, but I don’t believe Nate was ever aware of divine approval on those icy mornings. He was simply doing the right thing, which of course is often the hard thing.

Snow-pro neighborNow I find I’m the widow needing help. When the first big snowfall arrived, I was rummaging around in the basement for a snow shovel when I heard the delightful roar of a snow blower. Running upstairs, I saw our next-door-neighbor Bob, pink-cheeked and dodging clouds of flying snow, clearing off the driveway. When I ran outside to express my enthusiasm, he smiled and said, “Well, those of us with blowers should help those who don’t have them.”

I’ll never forget the rush of feelings that came to me then. I flashed back to Nate’s faithful work on our neighbor’s driveway, coupled with deep gratitude for my current neighbor and his cheerful willingness to help the widow next door.

”Who may enter your presence on your holy hill? Those who… do what is right… Those who refuse to… harm their neighbors… and those who keep their promises, even when it hurts.” (Psalm 15:1-4, TLB)

 

What good will it do?

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One of life’s great privileges is being able to talk to the Almighty. After reading the Old Testament and seeing how he kept a distance between himself and people to the point of causing whole mountains to shake, it’s astounding that he allows us to approach him at all. He not only allows it, he encourages it, warmly inviting us to come into his throne room. He even suggests we “come boldly,” and that we do it “with confidence.”

One of my great joys during the last 24 years has been to sit with others for extended times in God’s throne room. This week while meeting with 4 women to pray over a list of requests given to us through the church, a spirit of discouragement flooded me.

As we got ready to pray, we divided up the requests so each of us could cover some of them out loud while the others prayed silently. We do it this way each week, but for some reason this time I felt swamped by so many needs. There were nearly 100 in all, some of which had mini-requests within the bigger ones.

Prayers neededHow could we pray for them all in the 90 minutes available?

As the first woman began praying, my mind stayed stuck in the enormity of our task. My head was bowed, but my eyes weren’t closed. They were reading the requests: physical maladies, emotional crises, relationship divisions, financial struggles. How could our little band of 4 accomplish anything significant for this mob of needy people?

My desire to converse with God began plummeting, snowed under by the overwhelming odds against us. God’s simultaneous point of view, however, was the exact opposite. His desire to talk to me remained strong. And talk he did.

“Do you think your invitation into my throne room is so you can show me what you can do for these folks? Or is it for Me to show you what I can do?”

And that’s all it took. He had pulled me into the conversation.

I’m thankful for his timely reminder that prayer is all about God, not me. My part is just to approach him, believing he hears and answers. And sometimes he does it well before reaching #100 on the list: “Before they call I will answer; while they are still speaking I will hear.” (Isaiah 65:24)

“Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16)

Clumsy

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January 1st is a great time to begin again. All of us are good at pretending we have a clean slate then, and we love the idea of a fresh start. I determined to begin 2015 right, so in the first hour of the first day I grabbed my prayer clipboard and a new pen. Affixing a stack of notebook paper to it, I sat down to begin writing out a prayer.

OopsAs I plopped onto the couch cushion, however, my mug of coffee bounced and sent its contents up and over, onto the paper, clipboard, and couch, doing away with my clean slate before I even began.

I couldn’t believe I’d been that clumsy right off the bat, spoiling an otherwise perfect moment. But that’s the way life goes. Though I may be clumsier than most, all of us make messes now and again.

Sometimes I wonder about my Christian life, whether or not I’m stumbling through that like a bull in a china shop. Do I handle God’s Word with the utmost of care? Do I take him for granted when life is going well? Do I engage in prayer only when things go wrong? Am I quick to blame him for messes that are my fault?

I know he’s very forgiving of my many blunders and doesn’t hold it against me when I make innocent mistakes. But do I have a teachable heart that learns from them and determines to do better next time? And am I careful about what I believe?

Once my coffee-soaked papers had dried, I decided to use them anyway, as an object lesson, hoping they’d remind me to be careful with my faith and faithful to take care.

“Who can discern their own errors? Forgive my hidden faults.” (Psalm 18:12)

Praising and Praying with Mary

Thank you for praying for little Anders. He had a crisis with his heart last night that was averted with quick, expert care. Pray for stability and increasing weight gain with each new day.