Win for us: No house payment or utilities. Amazing financial opportunity for two young kids just embarking on our marriage journey...and allowing us to pay off an emergency appendectomy (lesson for those of you who think you don't need insurance!).
Win for them: No more vacant property to be vandalized. And, best of all, onsite labor in the snow.
I must confess that neither Ben or I fully understood the labor piece. We were newbies to Michigan. Blissfully unaware of the sheer volume of snow that was going to bless us with its presence. It seemed like a great tradeoff in theory...work for the church, live for free, and then be responsible for clearing the driveway and parking lot for Wednesday and Sunday activities in the event of snow. Done. No problem, right?
Until Thundersnow.
Have you ever experienced this particular weather phenomenon? I hadn't. I honestly didn't even know it could happen.
In Michigan, snow blankets the ground from Halloween to Easter. A snowstorm is a weekly, often daily, occurrence. Nothing stops. You learn to purchase extra necessities over time so there's no need for a mad dash to the store to stock up before it "arrives." Frankly, you'd live in a constant state of emergency if that was the case. You learn to drive in it. You get to work on time because snow isn't an excuse for tardiness. Restaurants and schools stay open, and events still happen. It's not that the temperature is warmer or the snow isn't as bad. The real truth is that Michigan-ites are so accustomed to the wintery precip that they plow expertly, salt religiously and life goes on. Granted, they get way more snow than ice. But still. The sheer volume and frequency of snow there is a serious adjustment.
Especially when you are the one responsible for clearing the 1/4 mile driveway and parking lot twice a week. (Interjecting here that Ben says it was nowhere near 1/4 mile and I'm exaggerating. Probably true).
And so we learned quickly. We loaded up on hand warmers, wool socks and super attractive long underwear. We purchased boots, coats and gloves rated for a temperature we couldn't dream of actually being outside in. We (well let's just be real here..) I made a plan of attack: Ben would warm up the tractor while we loaded up the spreader with salt. He would scrape from the driveway entrance to the shed behind the sanctuary while I shoveled the church sidewalk and entryway. Then he would start on the parking lot, while I followed behind dutifully, making perfect parallel lines with the salt spreader. Great team. We could knock it out in under 2 hours. The lot was clear and the walkways were safe. Services and activities could continue on safely. No problem.
Until Thundersnow.
If you've never experienced this particularly amazing weather phenomenon, it is one for the record books. The official definition (from wikipedia, but who's counting) is a heavy synoptic snowstorm that sustains strong vertical mixing which allows for favorable conditions for lightning and thunder to occur...In the United States...on average, only 6.3 events are reported per year. Thundersnow often produces snowfall rates in the range of 2 to 4 inches per hour. Snowfall of this intensity may limit visibilities severely.
Imagine an incredibly powerful thunderstorm. Lightning stretching across the sky and thunder booming over and over. A torrential downpour making rivers in your yard and turning the scene outside your window a blurry version of what you know to be out there but can't quite see. Then picture in your mind this same storm, thundering in its strength, and replace the buckets of rain with snow. That, my friends, is thundersnow.
It only happened once during our two year stint on Squirrel Road. But I won't ever forget it. Despite our standard protocol and best precautions, thundersnow defeated those two brave souls.
We had worked for nearly four hours, and the storm raged on. Our efforts were covered as fast as we could clear, and our muscles were sore with strain. Icicles dropped from every source on our blistery red faces. Eyes, nose, mouth. Beard (not mine...haha). Completely frozen. White-out conditions.
We finally called it.
As we collapsed inside our home, stripping off layers of sweat and snow-soaked clothing and huddling under heated blankets with our feet in warm water, out of breath from exhaustion, we picked up the phone. The church staff was understanding and apologetic. They did not ask us to risk life and limb, but we weathered the storm anyway, out of some sense of obligation and sacrifice, knowing that people were counting on us to get the job done. We had tried our darnedest, but in the end, the thundersnow won. All services and activities were canceled that week, one of the only times I can recall.
It is a New Year.
As I bundled up this morning to shovel the driveway in that decade-old teal puffy winter coat and slipped my familiar wool socks into the salt-stained zero degree snowboots, my heart breathed silent prayers of thankfulness. Because my winter gear has survived sub-zero temperatures before. I am prepared and equipped to brave the winter warning because I've been through it...many times. I have what I need. I know how to bundle up so I am protected from the elements. I know to take breaks, drink copious amounts of water, use my legs to avoid back injury and how to expertly avoid excess exertion, maintaining a healthy heart rate. I've got this.
Ben laughs at my willingness to tackle this stuff. Even during our time in Michigan, seeing the snow fall from the sky brought me joy and excitement. I looked forward to the workout. I wanted the challenge. During those long winters, I kept my mind occupied during the frigid swirling blizzards by beating my best time or tracing a perfect geometric path during the feat. What can I say...I'm a freak.
It's not so different than how I approach most things in life. I embrace the challenge. I attack the problem. I define the issue and make a plan to survive.
But I'm not perfect.
I forget. I forget my successes. I forget the times I've battled and won. I forget the times I lost but learned from it. And most of all, I forget that the road I've already walked has given me the tools I need to deal with circumstances I face.
I'll admit I'm an eternal optimist, but I just have to believe that we are sum of everything we've lived. You are who you are because of who you are. You following?
Fights. Friendships. Faith. Finances. Relationships. Unemployment. Miscarriages. Broken Homes. Illnesses. Injuries. Pets. Babies. Jobs. Broken Appliances. Expectations. (Fill in the blank here if I haven't mentioned one of your particular struggles...) The good and the bad. All of it, swirled up and dumped down into one monstrous thundersnow. It rains down so thick there are times we only see the accumulation and not the individual flakes or the progress we've made. What we try to work through gets covered up and it seems all a meaningless mess.
But time passes by and the sun comes out eventually. We are so thankful for the good that when the hard times come again they seem that much worse. And, again, we forget what we've already survived. We don't remember the winter gear or the survival tactics that used to be second nature. I am guilty of this more than I'd like to admit.
How do we forget that everything in our life has prepared us for this very moment? Dare I say that everything in our life has happened to ready us for this very moment we are in.
My single biggest resolution for this new year is that my eyes will be open and my heart reflective. I am who I am because of all of it. I need to take the life I have right now, live it, and use it. Take the opportunities to exercise shoveling the snow because I can. Take the time to share wisdom with someone facing a challenge I've survived. Take the time to laugh and grieve and love with those who need it because I, too, need it. Forget the pity and press on with a smile.
Learn from the battles I've won (and lost) so that when I find myself in the midst of thundersnow once more, I'll recognize its power, understand its beauty and appreciate the lesson.
I've been here before. I have what I need. I've got this.
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