The weather's been pretty harsh around here lately: freezing temperatures, rain, snow, wind...all typical for New England this time of year. I've adjusted to most of it now, but not to one particular aspect of North Eastern weather: Snow and Rain Mix. Snow and Rain Mix is something I had rarely experienced before moving here, and I've still not developed a successful defensive strategy for it. Now, mind you, I am not talking about sleet (at least I don't think I am...native New Englanders, feel free to weigh in at any time.) A simple google search of the definition for sleet returns a number of definitions: frozen rain, frozen precipitation, ice pellets, partially melted snow/partially frozen rain (which is it?) or, my personal favorite, "Partially frozen drizzle. Stings when it hits the skin." But what I'm talking about is full on rain AND snow both happening at exactly the same time. Though this may seem meteorologically impossible, I have seen it happen many times: go outside and it is BOTH pouring down rain and snowing heavily. The most difficult part about this particular situation is what to wear in this instance. Most rain gear is not designed for the low temperatures capable of producing snow, and most snow gear, while water resistant, is not meant to be worn in heavy rain.
But let's get to the heart of the matter, which was that the other day, it was raining and snowing, both heavily, at the exact moment that I decided I could not live another minute without having a bagel and cream cheese (this happens to me quite often if you were wondering), but which we did not have either of in the house. So I planned a quick dash to our local market, figuring that only driving a few blocks in the Rain and Snow couldn't be too bad. On the way, while stopped at a stop light, I saw the following sight:
A man, who appeared to be in his early thirties, pushing a stroller down the street. The man was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and a puffy down jacket (both made for snow, not so good in the rain) and looking, frankly, like a drowned rat. His clothes were soaked, from the top of his hood down to his tennis shoes and the look on his face betrayed that he was not, at that particular instance, praising God for the beauty of creation. The child, however, due to the very handy invention of the plastic stroller cover, was bone-dry. That was the life, I thought, living large in your dry, plastic-covered pod, without a care in the world, getting pushed down the street by some sucker who didn't know better than to grow up. But apparently, the kid and I were not on the same wavelength. Because the kid, apparently, did not want, at that moment, to stay put in the dry, plastic stroller-pod and ponder the blessings of childhood, but instead wanted to try to remove the plastic covering and observe the world going by directly. His repeated attempts to pull up the edge of the plastic covering and throw it off caused his father to have to pause and push the cover back down every few feet, thus increasing the adult's wetness factor and delaying their arrival at whatever dry destination they were shooting for.
Oh man, I thought, I would be SO PISSED at that little whippersnapper. Out here in the Rainsnow for Christ's sake. Don't you realize what's best for you?? Do you want to come out here and push this damn stroller yourself?!??!?? (Maybe this reaction is why I'm not a parent.) On the other hand, I thought, maybe a parent would be happy to push his beloved child down the street in the pouring/blizzarding rain/snow. Maybe once you're a parent, something fundamentally changes about your sense of self-interest and self-preservation, a kind of twilight-zone brain shift, and all of the sudden you'd be overjoyed that you could sacrifice your own comfort and sanity in order to provide a dry ride for your offspring. But then I recovered from my flash of idealism and realized that most parents, realistically, are probably smack-dab in the middle: 50% annoyed as hell that the damn kid won't stay put and 50% head over heels in love with them even when they do.
And then I thought I hope this is what God thinks about us. That God notices all our little screw-ups, and is annoyed as hell that we insist on continually straying away from the protection of God's grace, but that God loves us all the same and so keeps pushing us down the street.
I pulled into the parking lot, dashed into get my bagel and returned home quick. And after enjoying an absolutely delicious bagel, I resolved to try not to annoy God for the rest of the day....at least not until lunch.
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