Let it Snow

December: Yes, yes, yes. I know deep, wet snow really sucks for people who must work, live, or drive in it, but I'm SOOOOOOOO happy it's finally here; sparkling white, soft, and making the darkness recede for a day or two. Snow is a soft voice whispering to me, "There's still mercy, even for the fat cows of Bashan. There's a little time left before the desert comes in full." So I went walking in the snow today for all it was worth. There are days of judgment coming, though. The first is the 16th this month. That is the day of my final exam, and the day by which I must hand in my last two papers. I'm feeling very stressed about those papers. They should be easy. They need only be 3 double spaced pages each, and one is already 1/3 done, but I have not handed in a single paper within the allotted amount of time yet this semester, so none of them have earned me any marks greater than 0. This is the consequence for being bitter and unmotivated about having to take an intro class in my 6th year of university. I should have known better: God always uses the topics covered in each of my classes within days or weeks of my learning them in a real life situation. January: The formerly mentioned papers and exam are finished, and now it is a season of waiting. Waiting to find out if I passed my course, and therefore have finished my degree; waiting for my agenda to return from its road trip to Saskatchewan with my sister Val so I can begin trying to pick up additional work shifts this month; waiting to see what God wants me to do with my time and money now that school is done and my nannying hours have been cut from 2 days per week to 1; waiting for my absent room and house-mates to come home to our vacant house of prayer; waiting for summer. This is a strange waiting room, a sort of earthly purgatory. At times I feel as if I don't really exist, yet all of my hours are filled with people and activities and thoughts. I think I might actually be missing school. How ironic that the thing I hated most about University is the thing I now wish for: a consistent schedule with clearly defined dead-lines and directives. Instead, my life now consists of endless days. Not weeks, or months, or semesters, or years. Just days, filled with hours, filled with whatever I choose. My choices are alien to me. For the first time in my life, there are no voracious appetites consuming my passion, no unhealthy addictions distracting me from my path. I feel no desire to read fiction novels, no craving for familiar or unfamiliar stories in a film or textual format. The only foods I feel like eating are fruits, vegetables, and nuts. My fear of at least brief fasts is gone. I spend a day or two here and a day or two there, allowing myself to work, visit, or be alone as opportunities present themselves, content with each state while it lasts. Where are we going, God? I cannot claim to have done anything to achieve this lackadaisical zen, so I'm guessing that You gave it to me as a gift, a preparation. "These are tools, not toys," warned a somber Father Christmas to the Pevensie children of C.S. Lewis' The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. What do you need me to be prepared for, God? "Uh oh," understates Pauncha, tied to a log floating down a river. "Let me guess," drolls the surprisingly resilient Emperor Kuzko tied to the same log, "We're about to go careening over a huge waterfall." "Yep," answers Pauncha matter-of-factly. "Sharp rocks at the bottom?" inquires Kuzko with disinterest. "Most likely," Pauncha replies calmly. "Bring it on."