When I told my neighbor that my kids had another snow day, she said, “what’s a snow day anymore, right?” What she meant was that schooling during Covid times has changed the meaning of a school day.
There are flex days, virtual learning days, and on occasion, true snow days. Still, a day spent at home due to the snow holds different meaning from ‘the old days’.
One thing is true when it comes to snow: it quiets everything. The white flakes push things down and make hearing a delight. We hear our feet crush the snow, the sound of a truck on the next street, the bark of a dog.
It’s quiet and often exceedingly beautiful.
I’m mindful of St. Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians (1 Thess, 4:11), “Make it your goal to live a quiet life, minding your own business and working with your hands, just as we instructed you before.” The snow reminds me of this ancient admonition from the great evangelist.
In 2021, we need The Quiet Life. Social media, if you’re still into it, is exhausting. Constant attention to screens saps us of energy. Keeping up with the news? Overrated.
I invite you to enter into The Quiet Life this Lent. Dial back the noise, spend more time with the Lord where you can listen and hear His voice and if you’re lucky enough, where you can feel the crunch of snow underneath your feet.