I’ve had a wonderful day – sleeping late, and sporting my fleecy Mickey Mouse pajama pants all day long. Not to worry, though – I coordinated my ensemble with the matching fleecy bathrobe! It has been ages since I’ve been this lazy, but I have enjoyed every minute of it.
When I first walked into the kitchen this morning, it felt like a deep freeze. It didn’t take long to figure out why – gusts of east wind kept blowing the dog door open, admitting the fresh winter breezes. I had no choice but to close the door off, opening it every so often to let the animals out. I literally laughed out loud standing at the window watching them in the snow. Although it didn’t take them long to trample it down, at first the two small dogs’ legs were completely buried in the snow. They looked so funny – little apods atop the fluffy white, like hens laying on a nest of eggs. I’m not sure how he did it, but Tak seemed to bounce from one spot to another – it was hilarious. Bianca did her business in a hurry and ran back inside, although a few minutes later, she scratched furiously at the door to go back out. Neo seemed totally unaffected by the weather. His thick fur insulated him from any cold or wet, and he staked out his claim to various parts of the pen, sniffed the things that needed sniffed, and did everything he usually does when he goes outside. Scamp loved every minute of it. He ran up and down the ramp to the house, kicking up a wake of snow. He tore around the pen, trying to get someone to play with him. Bianca finally obliged him, and they wrestled around for a few minutes. When they came back in, my black dogs looked like dalmatians.
I spent time praying for my kids this morning, and checking on their whereabouts and safety, especially Emily, who is a mail carrier. I remembered another snowy day about sixteen or seventeen years ago. We were living in Sugar Creek, Missouri, and I drove a white Geo Metro (one of the best cars I have ever owned, by the way…). I was working at KCI airport, and Guy worked on Front Street, so our daily routine was that I would drive, drop him off, then head on farther north to my work. This particular morning, I started my day the way I always did – reading my Bible and praying. I felt good – ready to face the day.
As we were preparing to leave our home, Guy asked me how I felt. Somewhat surprised by the question, I told him that I felt fine. He was troubled, and said that he had a really bad feeling. I need to explain that Guy was not a worrier. He was an advocate of positive thinking, and often chided me for worrying about all the “what ifs”. He also possessed an uncanny knack for premonitions of upcoming events. I had witnessed several accounts of his “bad feelings” preceding injury or even tragic death of someone he knew. However, on this particular day, I wasn’t concerned about us going out into the bad weather. I was certain that if there was anything to worry about, God would have impressed it in my heart during my prayer time.
Guy called me several times during the day, each time a little more frantic and upset. He said he was certain that his bad feeling had something to do with me and the trip home. He spoke of visions of a crushed-beyond-recognition white car and a semi truck. I still had no bad feelings, myself, but I asked him what he wanted me to do. I told him that I would get a hotel room for the night if he preferred, or even sit in the airport all night. He didn’t know what would make him feel better, so, a little exasperated, I finally talked to him at the end of my shift and said something to the effect of, “Well, I feel fine about it, so I’m on my way to pick you up.”
I remember that I had parked in the airport garage that morning, rather than the employee parking lot. I hurried down the stairs from the terminal to my car, got in, turned the key and… click. Dead battery. What the heck? I hadn’t had any problems with the battery, hadn’t left the lights on – there was absolutely no reason it should be dead. Since this was before the era of everyone having a cell phone, I had to go back inside and use the phone at my work to call a nearby gas station, and let Guy know that I would be late. Then I had to wait for a tow truck to come and jump start my little Geo. It took an hour or so for all this to transpire.
When I finally got to Front Street to pick up my husband, he was cheerful. I asked him about his bad feeling, and he said it had suddenly stopped right after we had spoken last. I got goose bumps, and realised that the dead battery was a work of God. I was convinced that if the car had started, I would have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and would indeed have been inside the twisted wreckage that Guy had envisioned.
My feeling was confirmed even more after speaking to my mom that night. I knew she would want to know I was safely home, so I gave her a call. I remember the emotional tone in her voice when she said, “Oh, thank God!” Mom was retired at that time, and on days of inclement weather, she would pray often for family members that she knew or suspected were out on the road. She said that on this particular day, she had an especially heavy burden on her heart for me; that she had spent most of her day begging God to PLEASE keep me safe. Wow.
God has continued to be with me since that day, and given me many blessings to enjoy. My family, a warm house, a beautiful white winter world, and loving dogs who make me laugh. Yes, I’ve enjoyed my snow day today.
