Our weather in Seattle right now is really weird. They're calling it "terrain driven" and if you look at the radar picture, you can see a big huge clear spot in the middle of clouds. I think that there is an enormous glass bowl over Seattle. It's really the rain shadow of the Olympic Mountains, and it's working for the snow right now, too. But now tell me, don't you think some folks are going to think that this is the answer to their prayers?
For me prayer is not such a physical thing. I don't think I'd pray for a clearing in the clouds. I don't think I'd want people to the north and south to get MORE snow so I wouldn't have any. Like in "Bruce Almighty" when he pulls the moon closer in and there are catastrophic waves all over the world. Geez, that is a scary thing anyway, Jim Carey as God. (shudder)
Well, there is the prayer for strength. "Please, God. Let me not eat another piece of that almond fudge, please!" "Oh God, how is it that there is so much laundry!?"
But the real prayers, when I'm still and quiet are so much more like St. Francis of Assisi. Or Rumi.
Right now my prayer is to remember that this snow day with my boys is a little truffle of heaven. Wonder. I'm lucky. I should not make them work the whole day. We should read together, and play scrabble and bake cinnamon rolls. We should end the day remembering that we love each other.
And OK, maybe we'll take a little time to make some presents and you know, tackle some of that pile that looks like an offering to the gods, but is really just a laundry pile.
And we'll do our work with almond fudge on hand. For sure.