Into the Fire

Snow in Seattle: a mess. Abandoned cars on the freeway and everywhere else. My son’s beautiful Mustang included. Fortunately it’s pulled off the road. Hopefully we can get it towed today, but the towing companies are swamped.

Those were the days when snow used to be fun. Junior and senior high school especially. The days when no school prevailed. We had a steep hill by my home that no cars dared attempt, so kids were out in force with their sleds. Yes. Sleds. Wooden sleds. We spent hours traversing down that hill. It curved at the bottom and made for long fast fun rides. In my neighborhood I invented surfer or perhaps chariot style, standing up and holding onto the rope whizzing down that grade. An absolute blast with the wind from the speed in my eyes. Laughing. So carefree for those hours of plain play.

Those were the days when that kind of snow was rare for around here. And fun.

I hate snow here now. Precisely because of the ensuing chaos. There’s no fun in commuting. No fun in cars sliding down our slight downgrade and sometimes plowing into our fence. No fun in having to juggle the one 4 X 4—mine—to get people to work. My husband used to drive a 4 X 4 Ford pickup. Best rig in the snow. Now he drives a Ford Lightning pickup. For those of you who don’t know: it’s one fast puppy. It doesn’t get out of our driveway in the snow. Needless to say, my son’s Mustang doesn’t travel in the snow. However, he was at work when the bad weather went nutso. He thought he could make it. Didn’t.

I hate snow. Here.

God, please help us get the Mustang home safely. Thank you for your protection. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.