Our whole state is locked in a deep freeze, Father, and this four-day snowstorm has really crippled us all. The roads are piled high with snow drifts; power lines are down. People can’t get to work and the schools are closed. Six people have frozen to death, and the gloom is pervasive.
Is it all right to ask you for some respite? No, I don’t believe that storms and typhoons are your way of punishing our planet for making porn movies; it’s unfair to call every natural disaster a kind of retribution or act of God. But even as your Son rebuked a storm on Galilee, I choose to believe that the elements are subject to your power and your commands. If it can ease human suffering, and also somehow bring glory to your name, could you please call a halt to the endless flurries of white stuff?
In the meantime, thank you, Lord, for the warmth inside our own home, and for giving us the earning power to keep paying our heating bills. Please bless those who are out on the icy streets, who are stranded at the airport, or who are shivering without shelter tonight. You know them, Lord, and the painful chill in their bones. Warm them with your presence and your love.