Snowstorm Stella
One of the challenges/blessings/curses/opportunities that comes with moving is making new friends. When you are a tiny human, it’s easy. You find people to connect with at school or are automatically connect to people based on who your parents hang out with. As an adult, making friends is a whole new ball game.
Being known is one of the greatest blessings one can receive. It’s what we crave deep in our beings, and not only to be known, but to be accepted in the midst of what is discovered.
To be known, fully known, by another human being and still be chosen and pursued is one of the most fulfilling feelings. It’s why we love birthdays and anniversaries; basically any occasion where we are celebrated. People are given the opportunity to prove they know you by offering gifts or words or acts of service that are specifically tailored to our specific interests and desires. It may be small, but it’s a tangible reminder that we are seen.
Lately we’ve been in a bit of a rut, missing “our people” who always seem to reside just out of reach. We’re missing our old home, our old ways of life, and the people and church family we came to love. It's been an exciting and weary transition for the Sider's and we were feeling a bit fried.
And then we got a snow day.
The Siders needed a snow day. We needed permission to have a day, out of the blue, dedicated to being together with work and chores aside. We needed to sleep in, make meals together, create, and nap and play.
Belonging reorients us.
Belonging keeps us grounded.
Belonging binds us to one another.
It’s hard to feel like you are known and belong in a sea of new relationships, but snowstorm Stella reminded me that Dill and I are known by God, deeper and more fully than any human relationship. Our needs are seen, and heard, and met…and yes, for the Sider’s that meant embracing a snow day. We all need to make time for the “snow days” in our lives, days that lift us a little higher out of the rut until, one day, we find we aren’t in a rut at all.