Today, I could be bummed because of last night’s thick, wet snowfall which put a damper upon spring’s steady progress. I could be grinchy and grumpy because daylight savings time kicks in this weekend and will make me wait an extra hour for the sunrises I crave each morning. I could lament the steady drain on our checkbook when car licenses, property taxes, and Hiram’s birthday all arrive in March, also one of the two most grey and dismal months of the year.*
But I’m not bummed.
I’m not grinchy and grumpy.
I’m not lamenting our meager checkbook balance or March’s parade of grey days.
Instead, I am happy to be alive this morning after a snowy, treacherous drive home from Clive last night.
The problem wasn’t that it was snowing hard.
The problem wasn’t winds and drifting.
The problem was a sticky, heavy, wet snow that made it hard to see the side of the road.
I was only going 35 when the car veered toward the shoulder. The bump caused the car to fishtail. It went across the road and almost into the ditch. Then it slid to the other side and almost into that ditch. When it finally stopped moving, the car was pointed south in the northbound lane. I moved into the southbound lane and found a place to turn around.
On the slow trip home, I passed one car being pulled out of the ditch. So I drove slower, thinking about how God chose to answer my frantic prayer as the car and the steering wheel spun out of control.
“God, be with me!” I said.
Whether I ended up in the ditch unharmed or injured,
Whether I made it through without a scratch or in the hospital,
Whether I lived or died,
I knew he would answer that prayer.
He would be with me.
Why did he answer by keeping me out of the ditch, without a scratch on me or the car? Only one explanation comes to mind. His purposes for me are not complete. He has work for me to do. So as the mundane duties of this day unfold, I am happy to be alive, uninjured, and able to to accomplish them.
I am happy to fold underwear,
happy to edit more chapters of my book,
happy to cook and wash dishes,
happy to agonize over what color to paint the bathroom,
happy to watch my husband create another remodeling mess,
happy to see the daffodils poking through the pesky, wet snow,
happy to be alive.
*November is the other one of the two most dismal months.
