I really love snow. It’s pristine (at least at first); it’s quiet; it makes things slow down. But for me, now, this pounding we’re getting in the mid-Atlantic is getting a little nuts. But then, as often happens, the glory of life pokes through just when I’m getting frustrated and the perspective police show up to give me a good shaking.

I drove up from D.C. today in an effort to be sure my cats hadn’t mutinied or decided to take over the house entirely. (Aside from a really rough tumble they gave the water dish after I got home today – I suspect I was being berated cat-style – all was well.) The roads were, well, horrible. Even the interstates were covered with that bumpy, packed-down ice stuff that made me think I know a little of what those off-road truck racing guys feel in their necks the day after a race. It was a long, slow ride home.

When I got here, well, I couldn’t park. There was snow everywhere, and since I only have street parking, I jagged my car to the curb as best I could, unloaded, and headed back out for errands, a whispered prayer for a space thrown up as I pulled out. The grocery store was nuts; the bank was dead quiet, except for the manager who was quite disconcerted that people were hanging out waiting for the bus by the front door since the bus stop was snowed over. (I would have never thought of that, but it makes sense that a bunch of guys in hoodies would be a little unnerving for a bank staff). The drugstore empty – guess everybody got their meds last week. So I got things done, and headed home.

I got stuck. . . not badly stuck but stuck enough that I thought I might slide into a parked car if I tried to haul myself out. Just when I was about to throw on the hazard and get out for a look, a nice man from the car behind me ran up, asked if I was stuck, and then pushed me right out. So nice!!

Then, I pulled onto my street and lo, like a glowing sign from heaven, was a patch of pavement. I pulled in, but only after I carefully but not TOO slowly drove past a man in a wheelchair sitting in the snow and ice in the middle of the road. I got parked and walked back to him. He was okay, and a friend pushed him up the street to what I assume is home.

As I reached my door, the mailman’s truck got stuck. I went over to push him out, and it didn’t work. But just then more people showed up – someone tried to put a 2×4 under his tire and get him out, some of us pushed, another got a shovel, finally a woman in an SUV butted right up to him and pushed him right out. We all huddled off to our dry houses, I assume.

As I had been driving earlier, I had really started to get grumpy. This was such an inconvenience. A real pain. And it is, but not that much to me. I got around. I made it home. And I am not in a wheelchair. I am not a person whose job is – driven by motto – to deliver mail despite the “snow.” I do not have a health condition that makes being snowed in terrifying. I do not even have to get to a job, most days, that would fire me if I couldn’t get there. I am blessed.

I am blessed by neighbors who care enough to help the mailman, even if it is by directing from an upstairs window. I am blessed by men who don’t even know me but who push my car out of the snow. I am blessed by clerks who work at the grocery store so that I can buy Amy’s Macaroni and Cheese before the next snowstorm hits. I am blessed with heat (and warm kittens) and blankets and a house whose roof is still intact. I am blessed to be loved by a man who has already checked in twice to be sure I’m okay here. I am blessed.

I am blessed, too, to be taught lessons and reminded of my blessedness by a loving God who really doesn’t let me get too grouchy, especially when more snow is coming tomorrow.

May you all find your blessedness in your situation this night.

Wheelchair Snowplow – Here is a man who makes the most of his situation. Bravo, sir!!