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Two Snows

“But whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded his eyes.” 1 John 2:11

Last Tuesday, I awoke to a winter wonderland. Heavy snow blanketed all the trees and bushes in our yard. One bush laden with snow created an umbrella sanctuary for all creatures, both real and imaginary (the fairies I wish existed). I snapped a few pictures and sent it to my family remarking on the beauty God had landscaped. Throughout the day, I gazed out the windows, soaking in the views. The world felt magical, fresh, and peaceful.

Five weeks ago, this same scene didn’t evoke any feelings of beauty and serenity. I awoke to my alarm at 5:00 am, bundled up, and started the herculean task of shoveling my driveway. Later, my husband joined me, and after shoveling for over an hour, I walked into my house as he headed off to work. After pouring myself a cup of coffee, I turned on a podcast, and dozed off in our recliner. An hour later, still half asleep, I answered the phone to my ordinarily calm husband’s panicked voice, “Honey, I had a car accident! I’m not hurt but I’m waiting for the police to come.” He quickly described how he hit some slush on the interstate, and ended up spinning around three times, staying in his own lane. He knocked into a concrete embankment several times during his spin-out. This interstate is normally filled with tractor-trailers and other vehicles. But due to the conditions, and the size of our car, Terry managed not to hit anyone else. We both believe this was a miracle.

Hazy and shaken, I called my children to let them know about the accident. Maggie promptly took charge, calling her dad for more details. Within twenty minutes, she and Will were on their way to pick up Terry and bring him home. For the next two hours, I paced around my home, staring out into my yard at the treacherous snow. Tears fell as I imagined the “what if’s”. And when Terry walked in and I hugged him tight, so thankful that he was alive and well.

Snow, like many things in life, can be beautiful or deadly. Last Tuesday, my son and his family played in the snow and created a snowman that Joel called “Frosty”. Others may have chosen to go sledding or ride the trails with a snowmobile. This winter wonderland turned into a playground for many delighting in winter. But this same day, I am sure there were more severe accidents than the one my husband had had five weeks earlier. And the results could be lifelong injuries or the loss of a family member. And with this tragedy, these family members may never look at a snowstorm the same as before.

Even if the advent of snow doesn’t result in a life-changing accident, the very fact of snow can illicit different responses. Although I have no desire to live in Anchorage where they have received 101.9 inches of snow, I still love the accumulation of etched snowflakes. Like a child, I look forward to snowy days. I conjure feelings of Hygge and can’t wait to curl up on my couch with a cozy blanket and a book. I light candles, dim the lights, and drink coffee, alternating it with hot chocolate. It’s a day when my extroverted nature is pushed aside, and I embrace the solitude that a snow day brings. I don’t even mind shoveling and love the sound of the snowplow going through my neighborhood.

Prior to the accident, my husband didn’t share my sentiments. He finds snow to be cold, messy, and stressful, especially with his hour-long commute. And although he found the snow fall last Tuesday beautiful, long term snow piles make him feel claustrophobic. Yes, he likes curling up with a good book, wrapping up in a throw, and drinking coffee.  But he doesn’t need snow to add to the ambiance of Hygge. He concedes that one snowfall on Christmas Eve is all he needs, and then he’s ready to move on and embrace spring. And with the accident, his lackluster attitude towards snow has diminished even more.

It’s Black History month, and as someone who identifies as a white American, I have my view of the world. But those who are African American have a different view of the same world. And although God gives salvation to all of us freely, we live in a fallen world where others are not treated the same nor given the same freedoms. And although God sees us as equals, too often our world has treated others less than equally.

Just like my husband sees snow differently than I do, it doesn’t mean his perspective is wrong. This is based on his experience of having to navigate icy roads on a regular basis. I rarely drive in snow and can relax in the comfort of my home while watching the snow fall. But until his accident, I hadn’t acknowledged how dangerous snow can be. And for that day, I walked in his shoes and saw how my magical snow could be treacherous.

I haven’t experienced the blatant racism African Americans face along with the microaggressions they deal with on a regular basis. I may understand trauma on a personal level, but I haven’t experienced the trauma of slavery, Jim Crow laws, lynchings, and police brutality that has been passed on for generations. Their experience has created a sense of hopelessness, lack of agency, and anger towards any expression of racism, blatant or not. But this lack of experience doesn’t give me a pass on expressing empathy and understanding. As a Christian, I am called to love as Jesus loved, unconditionally, regardless of gender, race, or ethnicity.

I just finished my book this week but am a long way from publishing it. We have lots of editing, a cover to design, and formats to be decided. I hope to publish it by the end of summer. This as-yet-untitled memoir is about God’s restoration from a childhood fraught with sexual abuse. My daughter suggested that I make it clear who my intended audience is. I believe the book is for everyone. I am inviting readers into my suffering so that they have a better understanding of how sexual abuse affects a person throughout their life. I hope it dismantles some of the myths of sexual assault and the ludicrous idea that a person just needs to “forgive and move on.” I hope that the reader comes to the book with an open mind and is changed by my story.

For me, reading is a gateway into understanding different viewpoints. Last year, I read a few books about the black experience in prison, George Floyd’s life, and Tyler Merritt’s experience as an African American. These books helped me walk in their shoes for a little while, seeing the reality of their struggles and challenges. This year, I am planning on reading two of Esau McCaulley’s works. As a professor and theologian, his Reading While Black: African American Biblical Interpretation as an Exercise in Hope and How Far to the Promise Land will help me reform some of my ideas of race within the context of Christianity. McCaulley challenges, “If the church is going to be on the side of peace in the United States, there has to be an honest accounting of what this country has done and continues to do to Black and Brown people.”

In addition to reading, I listen to podcasts and follow Instagram accounts of other thinkers in the Christian world who offer a more nuanced perspective on race. Jasmine L. Holmes’ Instagram feed is full of myths with scholarly research combating some of those ideas that have plagued Christian circles, particularly the homeschooling circuit, for years. These include the idea that the Civil War was not about slavery, but mostly about states’ rights, and most slaves were treated like family and given the gospel. The daughter of a major speaker at home education conferences, Holmes has insight into some of the racist material that was being marketed to home educators. In her book Mother to a Son: Letters to a Black Boy on Identity and Hope, she writes “The truth of the gospel is not threatened by the truth we learn elsewhere, but highlighted by it.”

It’s been almost four years since George Floyd’s death, and I don’t believe we have resolved the racial tensions in the United States. White supremacy groups continue to flourish, and hate is marketed. I am not called to justify my position before Christ, but to present myself as a person who needs sanctification. And this sanctification looks like being honest about my own privilege and inviting myself into the sufferings of others through their stories. And if I hope that my own memoir moves the dial in being more empathetic towards rape victims, I need to do the same about race. Black History month might look very different for everyone. Take the opportunity and be open to changing your view, maybe through a podcast, an Instagram feed, or even a book. And like both McCaulley and Holmes state, we must reckon with both the history and current treatment of Black and Brown people and how it illuminates the gospel and our response to it.

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Football, Donuts, and Flowers

“Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the day drawing near.” Hebrews 10:24-25 ESV

The Super Bowl, Fasnacht Day, and Valentine’s Day have hit the calendar this week with a bang. Wings, donuts, and flowers packed shelves in the grocery stores. Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift, Madri Gras, and restaurant menus fill my social media feed. It’s a week of feasting, partying, and celebrating. Although all three events are supported by food, these three days are distinct with very different vibes. But if you set aside the commercials, beads, and flowers, they all point to the importance of connection. And with our polarized nation, we all need more opportunities to connect.

Because of my Wisconsin roots, I call myself a Packers fan, but I am not a football aficionado. I may have watched two Super Bowls in my entire life. And this year, even though we didn’t watch the game, we still made mini appetizers to enjoy while spending the evening together. I fully recognize that we are in the minority here. This year, the Super Bowl had the largest viewership ever at 123.4 million. If I am doing my math right, this means one out of every three Americans watched the big game. And I am sure that those who were not watching were like me, still checking their phones for updates and to hear the buzz about the commercials.

Now some may argue that it’s just a game unworthy of all the hype. Others may say viewership was up due to the “Swifties” showing interest. But whatever the case, this is one of the only major events that Americans seems to come together and share collectively. And I think it’s important we have these types of events, whether it’s football, the Olympics, or the Barbie movie. It forces us to put aside our differences and have fun. And this “fun” or play is valuable because it helps to create camaraderie. It reminds us that we are not so different, and as a Christian, it reminds me that everyone is created in His image.

Whether you call it Fat Tuesday, or Fasnacht Day, Tuesday, February 13, 2024, is another day that most people recognize on the calendar. Historically, this was the last day before the start of Lent. People would empty out their pantries of sugar, butter, and lard to prevent spoilage over the next forty days of fasting. An easy way to do this was to make donuts, named Fasnacht by the Pennsylvania Dutch. Even if you were not a liturgical Christian, you would still benefit by indulging in donuts due to your neighbor’s excess. The point of this indulgence was not to eat as many calories as you can, but to mark the upcoming season of remembrance of the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus.

Since moving to Pennsylvania, the Collins family has celebrated Fasnacht Day by sharing donuts with our family and friends. I discovered this day thirteen years ago, a lonely month and half after leaving Wisconsin. The idea of a day set aside for donuts made the hard move seem more palatable. It’s hard to eat a donut and not be joyful. And a donut shared in the company of others makes the donut even sweeter. Additionally, my first Fasnacht day gave me hope that my move to Pennsylvania could be sweet. I could make new friends and new traditions.

Traditionally, Valentine’s Day has been set aside for couples to celebrate romantic love. But like all holidays, the love has spread with Valentine gift exchanges in schools and Galentine Day celebrations. Today, we don’t celebrate with just a card and an appropriate sentiment. Instead, the National Retail Federation estimates that Americans will spend an average of $185.81 per person letting their loved ones, including pets, know that they are special with cards, flowers, candy, and gifts. And if money is an indicator of importance, it seems many Americans believe this day is as valuable as our relationships!

At different points in our marriage, we have prioritized this day to a greater or lesser extent. How we celebrated was often an indicator of the healthiness of our marriage. This year, we are not spending the average amount, but we are still taking time to be together as a couple and celebrate our love of 28 years. In no way do I think flowers or chocolate will heal a broken marriage, but I do think setting aside days to celebrate love is important. It signals to those you love that they are valuable and cherished.

All polls, whether related to politics, economic satisfaction, or mental health indicate that there is a prevailing sense of apathy, anxiety and loneliness across all ages, genders, and backgrounds. The average American feels a general sense of hopelessness for the future. And with that lack of hope comes a higher rate of suicide, depression, and substance addiction. Additionally, our avid use of devices, whether for social media or news headlines, increases our anxiety and sense of being alone. How does one look to the future with an impending election that guarantees more divisiveness? How does one look past the genocides and wars happening across the world? How does one find support if they are struggling or support others who are struggling with mental health issues?

I don’t have all the answers, but I think a little football, donuts, and flowers are good ways to start. I need to find ways to connect with others in larger gatherings centered on fun. This may involve a game night at my home or watching a movie with friends. This checking in with people can help others feel less isolated or alone. It also reminds us not to take everything so seriously, but to spend time just enjoying each other’s company. Plus, whenever you have a group together, laughter is both likely and contagious!

On a smaller note, connecting with small groups is another way to combat hopelessness. Joy is not found just in a bundle of fried sweet dough; it’s found in meaningful conversation that glorifies God. Although my extroverted nature thrives in large gatherings, my most meaningful connections are with a small group of friends. These connections not only contain laughter, but also moments of truth and beauty found in deep abiding relationships. This is where I refuel and glean from others. It’s a place of safety, where I am known and loved. And if I feel this from my friends, I am confident that others feel this as well in small groups. And just like buying a box of donuts gave me a glimpse of hope, I can cultivate small groups in my life as well to bring hope.

Finally, the health of my most treasured relationships should reflect where I spend my time, money, and energy. If I value my husband, my adult children and in-loves, and my grandchildren, they should receive the best of what I have to offer. This doesn’t require extravagant gifts, but it does require me to be intentional in my relationships. It is all too easy to take for granted those you love the most. And the gift of Valentine’s Day is that it is a reminder to put those you love front and center.

Like most people, it is easy for me to fall into despair over the upcoming election, the state of our world, and the myriad crises we face. But this week is a gentle reminder to me that there is a lot to celebrate and, more importantly, lots of ways I can personally build connections. And if football, donuts, and flowers can’t get you out of the doldrums, watch the Dunkin’ Super Bowl commercial. I promise the Dunkin’ tracksuits alone will make you laugh!

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Shadows and Groundhogs

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” James 1:17 ESV

Last Friday, men in top hats and tails gathered in front a huge crowd to see Punxsutawney Phil, one of the world’s most famous rodents. Music played, speeches were made, and cameras clicked as this groundhog crept out of his man-made burrow. Everyone held their collective breath, awaiting the groundhog and the view of his shadow. Soon, an early spring was declared with pomp and cheers. Due to the cloud cover, Phil did not see his shadow, and a 137-year tradition continued.

Years ago, I met a woman and her two children at the library. We struck up a conversation and immediately found a common interest with both of us being home educators. Soon, our families were eating dinner and playing games together. She seemed eager for community and would often bring little gifts of appreciation or write kind notes. Our husbands got along, and I was looking forward to building a lasting friendship.

Within a few months of the budding friendship, I opened an email from her but addressed to her husband and mistakenly sent it to me. I was confused, and the confusion only grew as I read the contents of the email. It was an angry tirade about a Walmart employee who had made a simple mistake. My new friend used expletives that I had never heard her use. Her anger seemed out of proportion, and she even threatened to call management and possibly sue the store. I was stunned! Was this the same lady who had just brought over blueberry muffins the week before? I realized this message was sent to me by accident, deleted it, and tried to believe that this was an outlier incident.

But it wasn’t. Within a few more months, other similar incidents happened, and this time her anger was directed towards me and my family. It got ugly quickly, and my husband and I decided, with prayer, that it was in all our best interests to end the friendship peacefully and go our separate ways.

We all have ways we want to be perceived by others, it’s the ideal version of ourselves. I want others to perceive me as friendly, joyful, and a good listener. I pray that they actively see Christ working in me. This is what psychiatrist Carl Jung referred to as our ego. Yet, I can be distracted, and am sometimes irritable and talk more than I listen. This unpleasant version of Sherry most often appears within the four walls of my home in front of the people I love the most. Carl Jung refers to this as our shadow side.

Recently, I heard writer John Mark Comer talk about this ego and shadow side in the context of Christianity. It’s good to pursue Godly character, to cultivate goodness, patience, gentleness, and joy in life. But often, our true nature, our shadow side comes out. We are humans and make choices that don’t always align themselves with Christ. And often this is the side we try to hide from others. Comer went on to say that the most integrated people are those who have the least amount of difference between their ego and shadow side. They are who they present, and they don’t have hidden sides that people would be startled at if they read an unexpected email.

In the case of Punxsutawney Phil, his shadow’s visibility is due to a law of physics. For a shadow to appear, an object needs to come between a light source and a surface. On a cloudy day, with no light, Phil would not see his shadow, thus predicting an early spring. Although physics can explain shadows, they are not often seen as neutral in life. In literature and films, shadows suggest something sinister, while children discovering shadow puppets find shadows humorous and delightful.

In the Bible, the apostle John compares God to being light, “and the light shineth into darkness”. This was more than just a metaphor, seen both when Moses was on Mount Sinai and the mountaintop transfiguration of Jesus. In both cases, the light from God was so blinding that it affected the face of Moses and the clothes of Jesus, reflecting His glory. And this same light continues as I listen to sermons, read His word, spend time in prayer, and meditate on God. And as I see the glory of God, it moves me to sanctification by illuminating the shadows in my life. The more I know God and am in relationship with Him, the more my shadow side is visible. I see where I fall short, where my character is lacking, and where sin has crept into my life.

Recently, I made a dark chocolate cheesecake. The dark cocoa and the melted chocolate are in direct contrast with the pure white cream cheese and sugar. If the cream cheese is not softened well, no matter how well I mix, it is likely that small white chunks of cream cheese will remain when baked. Then when I serve the cheesecake, instead of a uniform creamy chocolate consistency, a person will taste the sharp tang of unmixed cream cheese.

I may have the light of God shining on me, but if I don’t allow humility to soften my heart, that shadow side will dominate. I am not likely to send an email filled with expletives, but I can still be sharp with unkindness and unloving behavior. And to be humble, I must be focused on God and less on my own image. Theologian Timothy Keller defines humility this way: “I cannot feel superior to anyone, and yet I have nothing to prove to anyone. I do not think more of myself nor less of myself. Instead, I think of myself less.”

God is exactly who He said he would be. James records in 1:16-17, “Do not be deceived my beloved brothers. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” And although I will never be perfectly like God, I can allow His light, coupled with my humility and my pursuit of Him, to help me become more like Him.