It is January 10, 2007. “The snowstorm of the century” begins with a few flakes of early morning snow. Meteorologists predict the city of Saskatoon will be dumped on. By noon radio stations are broadcasting advisories suggesting people head home. Stores close early. Streets fill with cars.
To get home I need to cross a bridge with an uphill climb. As I creep along, there are headlights for blocks behind me and tail lights stretching far ahead. When I finally make it across the bridge, I face an even steeper incline. Suddenly my pickup truck spins to the left. A bad situation has just become worse.
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I am blocking a main traffic artery from one side of the city to the other. Attempting to move backward and forward does not help. Then I feel the truck straighten out and I begin moving uphill. In my mirrors I see images of people pushing me. Later I learn that three university students noticed traffic jams developing near their boarding house. They decided to push a few cars and ended up spending hours keeping traffic moving.
Some people called them angels. I suspect their mothers would have been surprised to hear that, but would be proud of them.
When I finally arrive home, surrounded by the whiteness of snow, it is unusually quiet. Nothing moves. Cars are buried. There is stillness everywhere. People have slowed their usually busy, frantic pace. The unexpected help at the top of the bridge, followed by quiet, is a minor miracle.
Events like these happen at Christmas. Businesses close. Employees get time off. Farm animals are fed, but chores are kept to a minimum. People help one another. We keep silence and enjoy peace for a few hours. Why is it so difficult at other times?
The longer I live, the more I am inclined to believe in miracles. You and I, the stars above, the daily sunrise and sunset and the birth of a baby are miracles. A great theologian gave an academic lecture on miracles. When he finished, he was asked to give a specific example of a miracle.
“There is only one miracle,” he answered. “It is life.” The fact I am alive is enough reason for me to believe in God.
Having received life as a gift, the question becomes “what do we do with this gift?” Frederick Buechner in his book LISTENING TO YOUR LIFE says “We are all judged every day. We are judged by the face that looks back at us from the bathroom mirror. We are judged by the faces of the people we love and by the faces and lives of our children, and our dreams. Each day finds us at the junction of many roads, and we are judged as much by the roads we have not taken as by the roads we have.”
Christmas is a time for angels and miracles. It is also a time when memories flow. You look at a fireplace and remember the turkey cooking in the oven of a wood stove at your grandparents’ farm. A piece of music reminds you of a Christmas dance. You see a horse cantering across a field, or feel excitement as the local hockey team faces off. Perhaps your eyes mist up and you wonder why. These are moments when God is speaking to you through memory. These are moments to recall where you have come from, and moments to consider what choices you will make, and what destiny you will carve out of life.
Best wishes for a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
