January has been furious. Since 2016 began, we’ve had a series of Ilsa-style blizzards here in the U.S. Winter Storm Frona took 8 days to cross America, leaving a breathtaking trail of beauty in the Grand Canyon and christening the new year with 28 inches of snow at eastern end of the Great Lakes. On her heels Storm Gorgan raced at breakneck speed 2,000 miles cross country from Washington State to New Jersey in just 2 days, casting her icy spell across 22 states. Frozen for sure! I think Storm Gorgan was appropriately named, because the Gorgan sisters (in Greek mythology) had snakes for hair and turned people into stone simply by staring at them. So, Monday morning, when an Arctic Clipper swooped down into parts of the Dakotas and Montana, causing temperatures to dip down to -20°, and the National Weather Service posted a storm warning for the possibility of winds gusting to 45mph, visibility at 1/4 mile, and as much as 12″ of drifting, lake-effect snow in our area Monday night and Tuesday, Alan had me pack up and meet him at a hotel near the hospital. In fact, predictions were for “treacherous travel” and “occasional whiteouts” for the entire week, and given that Alan had to make it to work every day due to the hospital’s triennial accreditation inspection, we decided to stay until we thought we could make it safely home. Schools were closing down, and stores were full of shoppers stocking up. Our area prepared as best it could, but still there were casualties. My prayer partner for the past 15 years slipped on ice and broke her ankle. The highways were crawling, and even so, there were numerous accidents with roads plugged and traffic backed up. Sadly, one of Alan’s friends was in a multiple car accident where he was not badly injured but one man was killed on Tuesday afternoon. (Selah [Pause].)When Alan and I finally ventured back to our home, the snow in our lane was deeper than the bumper of our car, and it took Alan a long time to clear it all out. We were terribly grateful to be safe and sound back in our nest with heat and power still intact. There’s always relief in escaping/surviving tribulation, but there’s a sense of “survival guilt” too, isn’t there? God doesn’t always explain why He does what He does, but He does ask us to believe that He is overseeing this world and intends good to come even from the evil if we will trust him. Will we?
(I did take all these photographs, but only the two of our lake and swamp are recent.)