For Wilshire Baptist Church
We’ve been in a North Texas deep freeze again, which always seems to catch people off guard. After all, it was shirt sleeve weather on Saturday, and now we’ve been below freezing for almost 80 hours since Sunday night. But anybody who has lived here awhile shouldn’t be surprised.
LeAnn and I are acutely familiar with the uncertainties of winter weather due to our birthdays falling in late January. We have separate but similar memories of childhood birthday parties sequestered indoors or out in the sunshine. In my own memory, I remember slipping and sliding to a bowling alley one year, and flying kites under a warm sunny sky the next. I’m guessing our parents had to be flexible with Plan Bs and last-minute phone calls.
Winter in North Texas is about as unpredictable as, well, life itself. There’s certainly nothing boring about it if you choose to bend with the weather, embrace the changes and apply some common sense. On the TV news last night, the anchor said, “People are antsy to get out and about, and in some cases it’s a matter of survival.” The key is in knowing what is important and what is not; what is needed now and what can wait.
We haven’t left the house since Monday morning as a full calendar has been pruned to whatever can be done online or by phone. Cancellations included the monthly SAM program at the Grief and Loss Center of North Texas, where LeAnn and I volunteer as greeters. SAM stands for “Same as Me,” and it’s aimed at children and teens who have lost someone significant: a sibling, a parent, a grandparent, a close friend. Through conversations and activities with other kids who are experiencing grief, they learn they aren’t alone. They also learn some ways to bend but not break when the storms of life blow their way.
None of the kids know it when we sign them in, but I was “same as them” when I was their age and my sister died. I can attest there’s going to be some storms in life, and that’ll require some bending to get through. Perhaps some Plan Bs, too, but God is pretty good at helping with that.
Looking out the frosted windows at the flower beds, we see the daffodils that bloomed early are bending their yellow heads under the weight of the ice. The yaupon holly and the live oaks – anything with leaves, actually – are hanging low as well. The live oaks are trimmed high enough to walk under, but today there isn’t three feet between the ground and the tips of the branches. They know the thaw is coming. It always does. But first, more cold rain is expected, and what doesn’t break them will nourish them and help them grow.
A little sunshine would be nice right about now, but don’t you know we’ll be complaining in July about the unbearable heat that comes with the light? We’ll be wishing for the cooler weather of fall and winter, and round and round we go. We’re a restless species when you think about it. Resilient and bending? Yes, but restless.