Me, for one, although my parents sent me a really cute card . . .
But the weather, maybe, for another. Last winter we didn't have a whole lot of snow. Most of what we got came down in one terrifying blast on Valentine's Day, and I had to drive to work through the worst of it; I arrived at the store an hour and a half after leaving for it, in tears and minus a windshield wiper. It was Not My Idea of A Good Time. After my risking life and limb to serve coffee to, oh, maybe three people, District-Dan decided to have us close the store two hours early. I made arrangements to stay overnight with a church-couple in the City, so that I didn't have to haul myself back through the snow, and then back again in the morning. Fortunately the couple didn't seem to have any big Valentine's Day plans that year.
Today is, I realise, not Valentine's Day, and according to AccuWeather, we may actually see some sun tomorrow. Also, this year has been making up for all the snow we may have missed in the last decade. So maybe it's less random that the weather would be stormy right now. But I find it interesting that, just about one year out, I had to spend the night at the same friends' house so that I could get to work in time to open the store this morning. If they have Valentine's plans this year, however, I am happy to think I did not interfere with them.
We are having a "winter storm," which basically means Precipitation of Various Forms On a Rotating Basis For Approximately an Entire Day. It started with snow last night, and has been pouring down ice for most of the day. I think it may have switched to rain by now. I have no intention of actually going outside to find out.
But anyway, it is people like these Valentine's-Day-sacrificing friends who make me wonder why I would want to leave this area. Sometimes church frustrates me, but other times I think that the people I know in it really are doing just what they should be, as Christians in their respective contexts. In December, when we got pummeled with snow just about every other day, men from four different church families came over to help me shovel. It was almost embarrassing--to need the help and to ask for it and to receive it. But it was also overwhelmingly good.
The weather this holiday kind of reflects the way I feel about it (though a little less passively), but it's that same weather that provides opportunities for me to find out that somehow, and for some reason, I still am loved . . .