Bad weather can bring unexpected joy. After a blizzard in Colorado, my daughter and I put on our cross country skis at midnight and headed toward the schoolyard a mile away. Though the heavy snow had knocked out power everywhere, the bright moon gave plenty of light. Houses were completely dark, people asleep. Our skis made the only sound. I loved the big snows that closed schools and work, and gave us all the gift of nothing to do.
We live in a surfeit of action and sound. It’s almost as if we were afraid of quiet, needing to stuff the air around us with noise and surround ourselves with stuff.
“Stuffing” makes me think of its opposite, Fasting. I never would have expected that giving up food for a day could feel almost as good as skiing in deep silent snow. Oh, I don’t look forward to fasting any more than I look forward to a power outage. It’s unnatural! It’s scary! But there is always someone who needs my prayers more than I need food, so I kneel and talk to God about it. In no time at all, He takes over and I feel free, without the heavy burdens that usually tie me down. I’m filled with love. When I’m tempted during the day, as I always am (Satan does not give up easily), I simply think of the person I’m fasting for, because they are more important than any food could be. I feel in harmony with God, a kind of conduit between heaven above and the earth beneath my feet. Fasting and Bad Weather both bring unexpected joy.