SNOW SHEEP

With the intensity of the forecasts of the last few days, I was sure I
would wake up in some kind of New Siberia, be compelled to buy a St. Bernard, and have to change my name to 'Nanook'. 
There's snow on the ground, but I can still see the grass, and the streets are amazingly clean. According to all reports, this would be a good time to make the popcorn/ginger-ale run. Uh oh. It's snowing. To the Rite-Aid!!!

Folks are either freaking out, complaining, or loving the prospect of more snow. One friend asked, "What is God trying to say?" 
Oh, I don't think He's "trying" to say anything, Dear Friend. He's speaking loudly and clearly- the way He always has. The question is, have we been listening, as we go about our busy days, making our busy plans, and being...well...busy?

Nature has consistently declared God's existence, and has faithfully obeyed His commands. It does what it is designed to do, and we, when it does its thing-- especially in populated places--we call its actions "inconvenient", "tragedies" and "disasters". 

We will always have seasons. This is Winter on the east coast. DC is in a peculiar spot. We don't always know if we're a northern or southern city. It can snow one day, and be a lovely 60 degrees the next. It's a fascinating place to live, weather-wise, because we get to see it all -- and sometimes, all in the same week.

We've been spared by a few mild winters in recent history, and have clearly gotten comfortable. This predictable winter, though, has been true to its name, and now many of us are acting as if snow is some kind of new phenomenon, or apocalyptic plague. 
As with other things in our lives, we ignore the atmosphere, and then get all shocked and bewildered when things occur as they naturally should. We've become afraid of global warming, turned conservation into some kind of scare tactic, and embraced the idea that God routinely and irresponsibly runs out of stuff just to keep us on our toes. 

I love it when God reminds us that He is not asleep, and is still sovereign. He told Job and his friends, and he's telling us, too--He is God, there is nothing new under the Sun, and with Him, there is "no shadow of turning". The Earth and every single solitary thing in, on, around, and through it, is His. 
He tells the snow, "Fall on the earth", and the Bible speaks of not one storehouse, but storehouses--plural. It would be wise for us to stop complaining, stock up on bread, milk and almond M&M's (maybe that's just me) and use the time to do something constructive in the little (or big) place where charity should begin--at HOME. 
The constant complaining about something one can do nothing about, constitutes wasted energy. Oh sure. We're entitled to our feelings, but I recall a little story about manna and quail that might encourage us to put a muzzle on all of that moaning and demanding.

Snow, even a few feet of it, has a visually stunning, yet crippling
effect on ordinarily busy, outgoing, and even religious people. 
I'm constantly seeing social media messages about "church" being closed-- as if the locked door on a building erases the possibility of any and all communion with God. Sure, it's great to get together with others to share our faith, but:
Can you not have a little one-on-one with God at home with your family?

Can you--worship leader, lead your own family in song on a snowed-in Sunday morning? 

Can you--Elder or Deacon, pray with your family in your
kitchen? 

Can you--singer or dancer, give it up for God in the living
room? 

(Here's a thought? Do your neighbors know that you are saved?) 

Can you-- minister, go into your snow-covered neighborhood and compel others to come to Christ in the same bold manner in which you extend your hand at the end of your pastor's sermon? 

Can you--usher, tell everyone that dinner is ready, draw everyone from bedrooms, dens, basements, back yards, stoops, porches, X-Boxes, wii's and TV's, and direct everyone to their respective seats at the table? 

Can you--lay member, put the fork down, and suggest that everyone thank the Lord, and ask for His blessing over the grits, eggs and sausage?

Can ANYBODY just pick up that sacred book, or Google one of the thousands of sites online, and sit down somewhere and read the Bible as the snow falls?

Buildings are wonderful, spectacular, comfortable, artistic, and a
blessing (if you've ever been outdoors at the wrong time for a long
time), but the church is a body of believers. There is no building on the planet that can hold us all. The covenant we memorized
as children said we're "bound together by common loyalty and common love". We love God. Our devotion is directed to Him. We're all pledging allegiance to the same Person. The things that we call "services", though, don't always demonstrate that we are concentrating on Him, and out of everyone in attendance, He often gets served the least.

God doesn't have an issue with snow. We do. Do we curse it because we have to get somewhere and show somebody else what we can do in the name of Jesus? Must we impress each other by our ability to bundle up to get to a building, so that we can strategically, and with false humility, call it "pressing our way"? Showing up in a blizzard will not earn us more blessing points. Do we have to prove that we love God more than others, and that we're more dedicated and faithful?

We curse the snow and its power over our freedom of movement, and ability to practice our routines, but why are we truly bothered by the cancellation of "church"? Have we succeeded in relegating the God in our lives to a specific location? Outside of the walls of our favorite sanctuaries, is there any sign of God? Even
on social networking sites, folks whose names are on a church roll
somewhere, express their disgust with seeing scriptures
in statuses! Glance at some pages and walls of church goers--leaders included-- and you have to wonder if all of the carrying on you see on the Sabbath day is nothing more than an audition for Tyler Perry's next movie.

Is the showy, self-centered spectacle we put on each weekend and call "church", the only place that one can see even an inkling of anything remotely godly in our lives? Is the snow canceling a party, or exposing a fractured relationship? If God is not in our hearts and the center of our homes; if those near and
dear to us, and those with whom we interact Monday through Saturday, don't see any evidence of His influence, (or any sign that we have spent even a minimal amount of time with Him), then we might as well skip the slippery race to the church house and take up ice skating. Why break your neck trying to get to a place where God doesn't even recognize His own word, is neither truly welcome, nor is He the center of attention? 
Have we been going to church more than we have been being the church? Have we been so consumed with church work, programs and activities, that we have forgotten about the work of the church? Is that the reason so many are hopping mad about the snow?
Has the snow forced us to be the church? To check on one another, make sure everyone has food, heat, and warm clothing? Has the snow reminded us that we don't have to go and visit God?

The meteorologists and weather watchers say it's coming--and a whole bunch of it. What is God saying?

God: Snow?

Snow: "Yes, Lord?"

God" "Fall on the Earth".

Snow: "Yes, Lord".

I wonder if He's also saying to us:

1. Let me create some family time before they convince themselves that something else is more important. 
2. Let me reunite children with their parents who, on Sabbath days, seem much to eager to pawn their offspring off on the volunteers in children's church. 
3. Let me provide some needed rest before they wear themselves out trying to be everywhere, doing everything other than carrying out the plans I have for them. 
4. Let me put some things back into perspective, and curb their busyness so that they can stop telling people that I told them to do any of it. 
5. Let me cause them to look at the place they call home, and
recognize that it needs their immediate attention. 
6. Let me restore order. My house has turned into a social club/shopping center where I am just an honorary member, and people don't even recognize when I've left the building. 
7. Let me give them a break from the get-togethers, pyramid schemes, family businesses, marketing ploys, religious rituals, cliques, cults, parties, socials, programs, events, explosions, extravaganzas, bonanzas, prostituting, talent shows,
competitions, lies, error, membership drives, anniversaries,
manipulation, celebrations, false doctrine, fashion shows, concerts,
circuses, engagements, plays, traditions, and the like, so that when they finally reassemble after the thaw, they'll be focused, grateful, and thankful.
8. Let me redirect them, quiet them, still them, so that when the snow ends and the doors reopen, they will honor my house, and won't even think of doing anything other than worshiping ME.

What if this is what God is saying to us? 
Bundle up. 
Stay safe.