Meteorologists are having a field day, rummaging around in their thesauri for words equal to the task of describing the nor’easter that is hammering the east coast on this January day.
“It’s Beauty and the Beast!” crowed NPR’s morning weather guy.
“I get the “beast” part,” chirped the perky news anchor, “but you’ve got to explain the ‘beauty,'” whereupon the meteorologist launched into a riveting psalm to the raw power of the storm.
He had my attention, and for a few minutes I imagined myself out in the storm, snow-caked scarf trailing behind me, face into the wind, being scoured clean by the blinding snow — sort of an east-coast, middle-aged, female version of John Muir, the 19th century North American explorer. He was known for climbing to the top of a Douglas fir in the middle of a wild, Sierra Mountain wind storm, holding on for dear life and riding out the tempest so that he could know and experience wind.
I, however, am known for making pot roast and home made ice cream on snowy days, so I peel another carrot and decide to use the food processor instead of the hammer to pulverize leftover candy canes for the ice cream. Through the driving snow, I see that Lady Cardinal, out on the deck rail, is having her own issues with the wind. Usually perfectly groomed in her red-orange lipstick, today her stylish, coiffed tuft of feathers is out of control, as, back to the wind, she struggles to maintain her dainty footing. Then, unexpectedly, the wind gusted, pivoting her where she stood, end for end, tail for beak.
This is the work of the wind, untamed and untame-able, turning us around when we least expect it. For the Christian, everything we do has its basis in the Wind of Spirit as both the Hebrew and the Greek render “spirit” as “wind” or “breath.” Apparently, John Muir had the right idea about how to relish wind, how to take it all in.
Today’s sideways snowstorm is a visible effect of wind, as are the sculpted drifts and tossing tree limbs. Typically, like Lady Cardinal, I want life on my own terms, predictable as the ingredients in my crockpot, without the bother of being upended by an invisible force beyond my control. How much I miss! I wonder what would happen if the Wind of Spirit was set free to do something in me that only God could do?
Now, don’t be looking for me at the top of any fir tree, riding out this storm! But what if, trusting the Wind to do His work, I relaxed my white knuckle control of the universe and let the beauty of Wind change my direction? What if the way to ride out life’s storms, the way to live “life in the Spirit” is to wait for the Wind to blow — and then to move.
“You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you . . .” Acts 1:8
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Beautiful … and scary and true. Thank you.
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Michele, I absolutely love this! The way you describe the wind and snow and then you end with this: “But what if, trusting the Wind to do His work, I relaxed my white knuckle control of the universe and let the beauty of Wind change my direction?” It’s exhilarating and freeing! Blessings to you!
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Thanks, Gayl. Trying to remember this as the snow storm changes the plans on my calendar. 🙂
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I, too, fight the changes God wants to make in my life. I am more content to shuffle along. If I trust the Wind to do His work, then I would have more of the abundant living that comes only from Him.
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Wise words!
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Ok I’m totally flabbergasted by the guy in the tree… we humans are a strange and wonderful creature.
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Yeah, there’s none of that in my DNA . . . but then I think about my tree-climbing sons and . . .
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Beautiful thoughts. I have never considered the Holy Spirit as a wild whipping storm wind before, but I am sure in some cases it is quite applicable. What a thought.
Thanks for sharing this with us! 🙂
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Erika, I love your prompts. Thanks for all that you do – in the midst of your already wind-whipped life – to encourage community on the web!
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I love the wildness of a winter storm (when, of course, I know that everyone I love is safely home and not out trying to travel in it) and I love the incredible stillness that comes afterward. That wind whipping around is one of the things I miss most, now that I live further to the south and true snowstorms are so few and far between.
I always forget that teh Holy Spirit translates as “wind”. Sometimes I really love thinking about those translations and what they say for how people built the language of the Bible, how they saw intangible things.
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Yes, and the wildness always reminds me of C.S. Lewis’s assessment of God via Aslan: “He’s not a tame lion, you know.”
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I live the words of beauty and the beast, the wind, John Muir and all! Such captivating words, friend!
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Eugene Peterson introduced me to the story of John Muir in the swaying tree — can’t recall which of his books . . . We’ve certainly lived through a storm in these past few days. Praying for you, my friend.
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You certainly have a way of making a snowstorm sound so much better than it is. Your description of the Wind as the Holy Spirit is perfect. Let’s wait for the Wind to blow and move with it.
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Ha! Trying to focus on the lessons I can absorb rather than the inevitable power loss later today! Very thankful for my woodstove!
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