#myproject41 2/365: He Redeems (Part 1)

They're calling it "Snowmageddon." "Snowpocalypse." Pictures of babies in snow, kids grinning proudly next to snowmen, and cars buried deep in the fluffy white stuff abound on my Facebook and Instagram feeds. 

As I'm looking out my window the world I can see is fading from an eerie pale blue to a deep navy-gray. I'm always mesmerized by the way the world outside hushes when enveloped in snow. While you won't catch me driving in it at all - although my husband delights in it - or ever skiing or engaging in other snow sports, I do love to be in it at night. Come midnight or later, when my neighbors are tucked wisely into their warm homes, I love to pull on all my recently-purchased snow gear and tromp around outside in the silence. I remember doing that even as a kid: big jacket, big boots, just standing in my yard with my arms out, face towards the sky. Nights so quiet you can actually hear the snowflakes land. I love the slight head rush I get when staring straight into the dark while the flakes come zooming towards me, like I'm flying through space at warp speed.

Seattle is currently experiencing the most major snowstorm we've had since 2008. It's felt like a forced staycation as my kids' schools have had to cancel day after day, now going into the second week. Hubby can't get to work yet and so we're all just spending our days bundled up in the freezing temps outside, or snuggled up near our fire watching movies and reading books. Right now I can hear Elsa belting out, "Let It Go" from the living room, even though I have music playing through my headphones.

To be honest, it's been lovely. We're at the end of a very busy season, and being forced to slow down and have little to do but spend time together has been a welcome gift. We have power. We have food. We have a car that can drive in the snow if we really need to. I know this isn't the case for everyone, and I'm choosing to focus on these blessings instead of how out-of-whack everything feels right now. 

And for the past few days, I just keep thinking about a promise the Lord made to me during the last snowstorm:

"And I will restore to you the years that the locust has eaten..." (Joel 2:25)

In the winter of 2008, just before Thanksgiving, my then-husband had reached the end of his rope with our marriage and our life, and he left. He had his reasons, which I may or may not get into some other time. But I was suddenly left to fend for myself, our 7 year old son and our almost-3 year old daughter in a new apartment, new job, new city. My life crashed down around me as I had to suddenly fill all new roles in my family. 

I made myself busy by day with being a full-time employee, learning the ropes of a great new job that I didn't feel adequate for. I tried to power through my broken heart and suddenly-rebellious digestive system (funny how intense stress can be a great weight loss tool) and stay strong for my kids, who were too young to really understand the situation, but were angry and taking it out on me. But by night, once they were tucked into bed, I had no choice but to stop and breathe, and give myself space to think about what was really going on. To worry, to cry, to scream out to God, to wish things weren't what they were. 

And then, about a month later, the storm hit.

I don't remember what day the snow came, but it seemed to arrive fast and heavy. But I was a Single Mama now, and had two littles depending on me. I had to get to work. I worked as the Admissions Coordinator of my son's private school, but school was cancelled that day so I think I dropped him off with his sister at her preschool, having no other option. And then I slowly, carefully started off down the giant, windy hill towards school. 

All was fine until I started coming around a corner and could see a pile of cars on the side of the road ahead and to my right, people milling about between them. And I groaned inwardly, white-knuckling my steering wheel, heart dropping into my stomach, as the road suddenly took control of my car and directed me slowly but surely right towards the group.

It was a very "Jesus take the wheel" moment, and I believe He did. I had zero control over where my Blazer was sliding, and finally came to a stop barely two inches from crashing into another stalled car and it's driver - who was now holding my vehicle back with his hands.

I breathed a sigh of relief, but now what? Somehow, a group of people pushed my car around, and I magically made it back up the hill to home, where I informed my boss I would not be coming in that day.

The next several days were more of the same. After just a day or two, driving out of my parking stall in the apartment complex was no longer an option. I was so grateful to be living directly behind a grocery store which somehow stayed open. The kids and I made a game of walking to the store for food. We'd play in the snow during the day, I'd make hot chocolate.

But then the night came. I remember for a while I would hide from my reality by binge-watching Glee and Twilight movies. I would wait with eager anticipation for my Netflix movies to arrive in the mail. I remember feeling like the snow and ice outside looked a lot like the circumstances in my life. Overwhelming. Life changing. Completely out of my control. Seemingly unending. And cold. So cold.

My heart was crushed. My life was forever altered. My husband didn't love me anymore - maybe he hadn't for a long time - and there was nothing I could do to change that. 

So I just decided to change what I could. Myself.

My nights eventually became my sanctuary. Painful, sure, but after a while I realized all the movies were making things worse and I needed to truly face and feel what I was going through, if I wanted to indeed get through it. And I couldn't do it alone. I needed Jesus.

"Even now, " declares the Lord, "return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning. Rend your heart and not your garments. Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity." (Joel 2:12-13)

So I began to do just that. Now after putting my kids to bed, cleaning the kitchen and making sure I was ready for the next day, instead of collapsing onto the couch to escape into a movie, I would go into my room, close my door, and just sob. I asked the Lord to reveal to me the ways I'd hurt my husband. A long list formed. I would tell the Lord how sorry I was for the ways I'd hurt my husband. For the sins I'd committed against him and the Lord. I would pore over marriage books, learning ways to be a better wife. Because at that point, I didn't know what would happen in my current marriage, but I knew for sure I wanted to do marriage differently moving forward.

Nights spent in worship to Jesus, mouthing the words to my favorite songs through my tears. Nights spent in His word, where He would speak to me and soothe my soul. Nights spent journaling my heartbreak, tears staining the pages.

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My hour is up. More tomorrow...