Storms are interesting monsters. They are not always predictable, and even when they are the degree of their intensity can rarely be known until they are in full swing.

Meteorologists predicted that yesterday a major winter blizzard would blow through Virginia Beach. Now, take the words “major” and “blizzard” with a grain of salt, this is after all, Virginia Beach. Regardless, I could not wait to wake up and open my window to a winter wonderland; but I didn’t. Nothing had changed in the weather since I had fallen asleep the night before.

Then, an hour later, the snow began to fall. And in the course of just three hours the entire landscape at Regent was covered with a cold cotton blanket a few inches thick. By 12:30 the University announced it would be closing early, and at 3:00 students, staff, and faculty trudged through the then rain and slush to their cars and homes.

So in only five hours the storm started and departed with little to show for it but a few patches of nearly melted snow.

It was out of just such a patch that the snapdragons accessorizing the entrance of Robertson Hall emerged. Although I have walked by them most every day since they were planted near two months ago they have never stood out quite like they did this morning; as though the bright white snow was sent for no other reason than to highlight their petals.

Doesn’t God use the storms of life to serve the same purpose?

By Molly Eccles

No comments: