It is Friday afternoon and I’m waiting for the snow. It’s been a pretty mild winter so far, but a storm is on the way – and snowfall expectations are around a foot, combined with high winds. The snow blower has been repaired and is gassed up; we have a new shovel and new sleds. Oh and we have milk, bread and eggs just in case we decide to have French toast!
Snow in our neighborhood is great. The kids and parents get together to sled, and then usually meet up at someone’s house for hot chocolate (and something else for the dads!). It’s always a lot of fun – even with the shoveling.
But this time it feels different. I’m just waiting. The storm is expected to start later tonight, and snow through Saturday into Sunday. We’ve already cancelled Sunday school, and will delay until as late as possible to decide on worship. But for now we wait.
This is not the same waiting as waiting for Christmas, or for a loved one to come home, or even for the Novocain to work before the dentist starts drilling. This wait seems a bit eerie, a bit strange, a bit foreboding – and I don’t know why. It might be that the forecast keeps changing (potential accumulation is already higher than when I started writing this). It might be due to the possibility of high winds, wet snow and power outages, and it might just be the long wait itself. It seems like we’ve been talking about and waiting for this storm for quite some time.
It will start soon (or later, depending on the storm), and tomorrow I’ll be shoveling. But for now I wait. And wait.
If you are waiting too, go ahead make some hot chocolate. Make some French toast. Huddle up together with a movie, a blanket and your loved ones. And wait.