There are very few moments quite as peaceful as the morning after a heavy snow, especially if the power goes out.  The morning sun glistens on the new snow, the beauty taking one’s breath away as much as the frigid air.  The hush seems almost sacred, a moment of truce in the mad bedlam of everyday life.  It is not oppressive, but more like a release, a deep breath after a tense spell.  As I remember those moments in my life, I smile and relax just a little.

It is almost as though God has created such moments in order to call us – or rather force us, since we have not heeded his call – to stop, to cease from our rapid-fire life for some moments of much needed respite.  In those periods of silence and cessation, we have a chance to hear that “sound of sheer silence” in which our Heavenly Father’s Presence can be uniquely found.  Oh, we can often sense that amazing Presence in the rush of life, but it seems closer, more intimate to me when it is within the calm of such moments.  There are other concerns that come in such moments, such as the need for protection from the encroaching cold, but there is less urgency to them than with much of the rest of our lives.  Our focus becomes more basic, because all of the distractions have been minimized.

The Great God has done this before in other ways.  For Elijah, it was a threatening queen and a mad dash for the relative safety of the wilderness (see 1 Kings 19, especially vs. 12-13).  For Moses, it was a bad mistake compounded by rejection from his fellow Israelites and another wilderness experience (see Exodus 2:11-3:10, especially vs. 3:1-4).  For Jonah, it was flight from God’s call and an encounter in the belly of a “great fish” (see Jonah 1:1-2:10, especially vs. 1:17-2:1).  Each of these people were essentially forced to confront God in silence.  In each case, the resulting interaction changed not only the course of that person’s life, but the course of many other lives, as well.  It seems like sudden silence is a good thing.

This winter looks like one of those during which we will see several life-interrupting storm systems bring us to moments (or perhaps days) of quiet.  Maybe the Lord is using this time to bring us to that place described in Psalm 46:10, so that we will “know that [He} is God.”  I want to encourage you to embrace these times, as I will.  Instead of fretting over the things I won’t get done, or the sheer inconvenience of it all, I think I’m going to just sit still and see what happens. 

And enjoy the peace from the storm.