Pastoral Thought--December 17

Sitting here in my home office, Plains Church Road has finally become visible. The Plows and salt trucks have gone up and down a few times and their work means I can see the dark pavement. Their work has been successful as I watch a SUV go by. Travel is beginning to resume its normal flow outside. I can see Franklin and notice how easily people are coming and going. 

I am fresh from shoveling off the sidewalk at the church. It’s a tiring job, but a necessary one. If the snow is not removed from the sidewalks then it will freeze tonight and that will present a whole new set of problems for us in the morning. Sure salt will work, but not with this much snow. I checked the weather service and found out that we were ‘blessed’ with between 7-12 inches of snow depending on where you live around Cranberry.  

About half of the way through the work of shoveling, I paused to catch my breath (wet snow is heavy). I was huffing and puffing more than I care to admit. In the distance, I thought that I could hear a snowblower performing its task. That sound made me laugh. . . I said out loud to no one in particular, ‘well it would be nice to have one of those.’ But I dug back into the snow for the next patch thankful that I have the strength and stamina to do this. 

But it was still so quite. . . 

Later this afternoon I have to run a quick errand to Target. I am NOT looking forward to that. The store will be packed. The people rude. The isles crowded with impatient people who believe they have more important things to do than be patient with me. I am such a burden sometimes. . . (just ask Emma). 

But sitting here in my office, and reflecting about what is to come, and noting how irritating that snow has been already, I notice the nativity set that sits on the window sill. A friend painted it for us years ago. It is a smaller version of a set that a previous church displays. And I look at it. . . I notice the Magi looking off into the distance. I see shepherds holding their walking sticks surrounded by animals that they watch faithfully. An angel kneels prostrate before the manger with Mary and Joseph looking down and the child. Their hands are open before the baby. . .

I may have a lot to do, and the snow may have slowed everything down today, and that might just be very frustrating. It may have made my day a bit more challenging, but the Incarnation miracle is still coming for me and for us. In the silence of my heart, I wonder how much room have I, have we, created this year for that miracle? How much fills the space in us where God could dwell? 

Blessings

Rev. Derek