“Snow” has become a four-letter word to me.

It’s not like I’m a stranger to snow. My family has lived in places where it snowed during the winter. But I was a kid. Kids think “snow” and “fun” are synonymous. You get to put on your snow apparel and run outside and roll around, then come inside for a steaming mug of hot chocolate. And (if you’re not homeschooled like I was) it often means snow days.

When I was 13 we moved to Lima, Peru and lived there until I graduated high school. It doesn’t even rain in Lima, so I was precipitation-free for five years. And even though I went to college in an area which receives a decent amount of snow, it was like being a kid again. I could walk to class so I didn’t have to drive anywhere unless I wanted to. The only time snow made me nervous was Christmas break when I was driving home.

Snow in New England is an entirely different ball game. Dave and I got married in November of last year, and he told me I was moving to New England just in time for the worst three months of the year – December, January, and February. Those three months are bad every year, but my first year here they were particularly brutal. I keep praying God put me through the worst one first so that my future winters seem like no big deal. In January and February, Manchester (which is where we lived at the time) received over 6 feet of snow – the most snow in about twenty years.

There was a snow storm almost every week, usually on a Tuesday or Friday. Our commute which usually took thirty minutes would turn into an hour. Since I’m a nanny, I don’t have the luxury of working from home or even being late to work. The snow banks became so high that crossing the road was terrifying since you could not see the cars until you had inched halfway into the intersection.

Even though I know there are areas which have worse winters than southern New Hampshire, I dread the coming winter. The thought of getting back into my car during a snow storm makes me wish I could hibernate. All I can do is pray and remind myself that God is in control. Knowing that He is sovereign and watching over me (as well as my husband and everyone else I love) is the only thing that will get me through this winter. God is good, even in a snow storm.

But for right now, I’m going to focus on the season of fall and all the wonderful things that come with it: sunny, crisp days; apple cider; pumpkins; and the changing colors of the leaves.

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2 thoughts on ““Snow” has become a four-letter word to me.

  1. i thought of you hibernating. like… you in a ball in the corner praying for the snow to leave. i hate snow too… apparently our area gets it pretty badly… boo. at least its flat! Cincinnati had hills with ice storms.

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