“Ohh, brother just look at the snow coming down! When will this blizzard ever let up?” Why can’t I be living on a tropical beach somewhere, you know like the south pacific? Lord no offense but I don’t think Pennsylvania is were I belong.” Wrapping up in my thick housecoat, I shiver peering out the window.
The shrill echo of the phone rings, I rush to answer it, like a bat in a belfry.
“Diane, this is aunt Carmie”
Ah yes, Auntie Carmie who’s nearly ninety years old with Alzheimer’s once again
needs gentle reassurance that I’m right up the road from her care facility.
The Holy Spirit whispers, That’s why your planted here.
“Ohh.” the brilliant light dawns.
I glance at my front door while ministering to Aunt Carmie. I’m reminded how my grandchildren come crashing through, excitement written on their little faces. I listen to their revealing adventures, nearly once a week. “Could we sleep over?’ Isn’t far from being asked.
The Holy Spirit whispers. “That’s why your planted here.
Ohh! I could never sacrifice that! I shiver again but not from the cold.
I watch my husband maneuvering the snow blower clearing the driveway.
The phone rings again.
“Mom called to say she made a pot of piggies, and cupcakes!” I yell over the roaring motor. I walk down the driveway to collect the bounty. She lives in a garage apartment right in my back yard.
The Holy Spirit whispers, “That’s why your planted here.”
Ohh, the light again dawns. Who would take care of mom? Who would shovel her out?
My selfish moment becomes somber. I think of missionaries who have sacrificed their families to spread the word of God only to be met with prison and in some cases death.
I thank God for my mission field, blizzard or not.
In fact I think I'll make a snowman, and call him Johna.
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