Here's a fundamental fact about my life that was clearly witnessed today: My father, with a modest snow-blower, and I, with a trusty shovel, are an unstoppable force in the wake of a blizzard's effects. We quite blazed (almost literally, as if a flame-thrower were involved) our way through our driveway, walkway, and the sidewalk all around our house by midday (and this was after breakfast). We're talking two to three feet of snow on average (probably a bit more in certain areas). We make a great team.
Other than that, we have enjoyed the warmth of our home. And yet there is no sense of entitlement behind that statement. Quite the contrary, I was struck by pangs at the thought of those in our own community's backyard who did not have shelter during this horrendous storm. What springs up is not guilt, so much as gratitude, and a heart posture of prayer.
All that to say, after a hard day's work plying the shovel to magisterial mounds of snow, A bowl of Chili and and cornbread was received with so much gratitude and gravity.
By the way, this kid wants to snowboard. Who's with me?
two hundred. forty one.
10 years ago
