Winter driving

Psalm 147:12-20 Second Sunday in Christmas

To begin, note two things: First, winter weather in western South Dakota is fickle, not to be regarded lightly. The air never stops moving, even on the most clement, merciful and kind days. Second, when driving the normal three hours on the two-lane black-top from Pierre to Sturgis there are zero stop signs and not many more outposts of civilization.

I had done a burial at Black Hills National Cemetery and caught a ride back to Pierre in the hearse with the funeral director’s wife. I volunteered to drive. As the sun slid behind the mountains at our back, an early November blizzard brought the curl of its system up from the south. The road turned from black top to white top. The edge of the road was more often than not imaginary. Beside me, Trudy prayed and sang spiritual songs. The coffin carrier began to feel like a coffin itself, shrouded in a pall. Burial cloths whipping around us.

The psalmist says, “He gives snow like wool; he scatters frost like ashes. He hurls down hail like crumbs — who can stand before his cold?” (Psalm 147:16-17) Standing I can do. Driving, not so much. Thanks to my winter excursion in the Feigum Funeral Home hearse, I have a winter driving phobia. I fear slick roads and whiteout conditions. Pulling out of the garage in the midst of flurries gets my pulse racing. Who will save me from this auto body of death?

My phobia, of course, is that I will lose control. And if I think I can manage the rest of my life a bit better than I can slick roads, it’s only an illusion. I am out of control, spinning, slipping, sliding through my days. The forecast is for more of the same. The slick lane leads to the ditch. Beware all you other drivers, I may take you out on the way in.

I have no ability to find my way to sunnier climes or drier paths. If I’m to make it home, it can only come at God’s behest. My help is in the name of the Lord. He alone “sends out his word, and melts them; he makes his wind blow, and the waters flow.” (Psalm 147 18)

At the font comes God’s promise of an eternal January thaw. He declares his word and provides more than safe haven from the storm. He is the divine Climate Changer. The weather system sent by his holy wind brings a life-giving Word that thaws the road and the icy, controlling heart, for Christ’s forgiveness and mercy are not fickle. They can be counted on to carry home a dead person like me more surely than any hearse.

So in our winters we pray and sing spiritual songs, even in the most limited visibility, for we are even now being carried home. We pray and sing, even when spinning in the face of on-coming traffic, for the one who is the Way promises to bring us with him to the end, safe and secure. We sing and pray, for our deliverance in Christ Jesus is dawning. The bright day of Epiphany is on its way.