I was warned about what winters would be here. Most of my Texas friends had voiced concern that the weather I would face would be difficult, ignoring the occasional tornado, hurricane or summer-intense heat I was leaving behind.
In November, a severe storm traveled through Stevensville and left that little town I had moved from in dire straits. Schools, businesses, offices and streets were shut down. Those who lived there had not faced such weather before and were ill-equipped to deal with it. Tornados, yes; ice, no. I was delighted to report to them that we were in the 70s as their temperatures dropped to the low 20s.
To you who complain about the gloomy, rainy days: Reflect on how severe it can get elsewhere. A few summers ago, 90 consecutive days of triple-digit temperatures. A countryside burned dry from the heat. Range fires a constant danger to deal with. The land considered drought area, and it strikes fear in one’s heart when you remember drought in the past. We prayed for rain.
Perhaps God got confused and sent it and the snow here. For that I guess I must say, thank you!