Graduating from high school, I knew I had to get away and God took all other collegiate options away, quite clearly leading me to Drake. I know I’m in the right place and He, in His goodness, almost daily reminds me of that. But, my immediate family is roughly 1,800 miles away. Where God has led them. Quite often at Drake, peers would ask me where I was from (I was just as often tempted to say “Venus”) and inevitably when I replied, “California” the follow up question would be, “Why (or how) are you here?” I often asked myself that question too. Especially in the winters. That leads me to this picture I found in the archives a few days ago from our first dump of snow my freshman year 2003. 18 inches of the fluffy stuff fell, canceling night time classes which I, unfortunately, had none.
I never quite understood why my best two guy friends (from Iowa and North Dakota) would never take me up on my offer of a snow ball fight. They wouldn’t even go near it! Maybe they were just intimidated by my California boogy boarding prowess…those paddling arms could hurl a mean snowball-let me tell ‘ya!
I am reminded of this time last year when we’d had our 7th snow day and I journaled about Noah in his ark. What he must have felt like being trapped in a ship, tossing and turning, for days and days with only a dove to signal to him that land was in sight, somewhere. If he could handle being cooped up in the Ark for 150 days (at the ripe young age of 600) before sending out the dove, I think I can handle 90 days of winter.
