Parents, It's A Snow Day!* Words from COVID 19 quarantine

 Parents, it’s a snow day! As December 2020 arrives wrapped in a blanket of snow, I’m reminded of snow adventures of my youth. As a kid, I lived in Lakemoor Hills. In the summer we loved the “Lake” part of the neighborhood for fishing and the escape to the aesthetic beauty of the water that could wash over you like a warm healing anointing of peace. In the fall the "moor, (defined as "uncultivated upland" by the Oxford Dictionary) we loved the brilliant leaf colors and the crunch of leaves under our feet. In the winter, on the somewhat rare Southern-climated occasion that it snowed, it was the “Hills” part of the neighborhood that we loved. When it snowed overnight, we got up and watched the TV and listened for the magic words “school closed.” Exuberant shouts of joy went up to the heavens as we put on our long-johns, jeans, boots, coat, gloves and hats ready for a day of sledding and building snow people. My sister, the artist, once sculpted Mt. Rushmore at the foot of our long sloping yard. She rolled 4 giant snowballs from the top and then made Washington, Lincoln, Roosevelt, and Jefferson for the neighbors to enjoy. I was always ready to find the best sledding hill where all the kids were. Because Lakemoor Hills had lots of trees, the best sledding was on the roads and because we were in the South and there were no snow plows. Most people just stayed home, leaving the streets open for early adolescent sledding chaos. One street called Timberlake Drive was a great sloping curvy hill, but it was a little narrow for kids sledding down and walking back up for the next long ride back down. My sister happened to be finished with whatever snow sculpture she was doing that day and was ready to join the sledding fun. The challenge was we only had two sleds, my dad’s boyhood, old faithful, an old fashioned, wooden, metal railed, steerable sled, and the other a round disc (think Chevy Chase in Christmas Vacation). For a ride downhill on a curvy road, only a steerable sled would do. We tried towing the round disc behind the steerable, but it never worked. So, we both sat on the steerable sled and headed down the hill. As we picked up speed and began navigating the blind curve, steering the sled with my feet, we rounded the turn to see a classmate trying to protect everyone by standing in the middle of the road, waving his arms wildly, yelling, “a Jeep is coming up the hill.” The problem was there were only three options for the dozen or so kids flying down the hill like Susie Chapstick in the Olympic Giant Slalom: 1. Stay on the road and hit the classmate and possibly hit the uphill bound Jeep head on, 2. go left and fly off the side of the road and down a steep ravine including unavoidable impact with one of the many trees, or 3. crash into the car, abandoned because of the treacherously slick conditions on the right side in the ditch, against the embankment. Because of where we were in the pack of snow crazed sled riders, our choice was made for us… crash into the ditched car! The bumper hit me at about 20 MPH, right in the chest, our legs and the sled continued their downhill trajectory and we were wedged like a doorstop under the Olds 98. Other kids were flying off the side of the embankment grabbing trees, letting sleds crash below, and my classmate was dodging everyone he could, but finally, he was taken out at the shins by a shiny new Radio Flyer and a wide eyed, tobogganed, tobogganer! Fortunately, no one was hit by the Jeep... My sister and I struggled to free ourselves like two grease monkeys on a creeper (the little wheeled sled that is intended to take mechanics under a car) squeezed under the heavy metal of the late 1960’s era muscle sedan like mice in a trap, which would have been worse had the sled not impacted the tire and prevented us from being stuck further under the overpowered Sunday cruiser. We managed to get down the hill to a wonderful neighbor at the bottom. She was the snow Mom in the ‘hood who always took care of our gang on snow days. She would fix something Hot Chocolate and Cider, have enough snacks to fill up several snow-hungry preteens, have a fire going and she would put jackets, jeans, socks and gloves into the dryer until all of us were rewarmed. Before long, the long-john clad, snow warriors were ready to suit up and go out again for more snow adventures.

There was always a brief moment in the morning, before the excited snow crunching steps and much anticipated snowplay, that I would walk out the door, take a deep breath and admire the beauty, peace, quietness, and purity of the fresh blanket of snow. It was not yet marred by our footprints or sled tracks and it covered over the dead winter grass and muddy imperfections of the ground… everything seemed to be okay amidst the angst filled days of tweenagedom. When King David had muddied his life by gazing himself into adultery with Bathsheba and stained himself with blood by murdering her husband Uriah, God sent Nathan to confront his hypocrisy and remind him his actions weren't those of... "a man after God’s own heart. David, in his remorse and repentance, returns to God saying, ”Surely you desire integrity in the inner self, and you teach me wisdom deep within. Purify me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice. Turn your face away from my sins and blot out all my guilt. God, create a clean heart for me and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not banish me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore the joy of your salvation to me, and sustain me by giving me a willing spirit. Then I will teach the rebellious your ways, and sinners will return to you.” Psalm 51:6-13 (CSBBible) David tells us that the fresh unscarred, undirtied snow can be a reminder of God’s restoration and reconnection when we confess our shortcomings, sins, and backsliding ways. We are assured that God always disciplines the errant children He loves (see Hebrews 12:6) to turn us back to Himself, but He can also restore and heal the other broken relationships that are always the victims of our disconnection with God and His pure ways. God is always glad to be with us, but His boundaries keep us in right relationship with Him and keep us from disastrous collisions from destructive choices. When we see fresh snow, we can rest in the promise of the restored joy of our salvation as we are washed by God’s Word.

Hang in there people! God is with us! I’m praying for us all!