Snow day!

Two weeks ago church was cancelled because of an ice storm. This was the first time I'd had church cancelled since I'd been here in Ann Arbor (it happened twice when I lived in Virginia), and for several people out here it was their first time ever. There were mixed feelings, I think - church is not just a spiritual matter, but a social matter as well and almost immediately several ward members were attempting to get people together to make up for the socializing they were missing out on (I admit that I was one of those people, though my attempts were kind of meager).

Last night there was a major winter storm warning, and because today was our ward Christmas program, and because the church cancellation was fresh in everyone's memories, a couple people were begging the bishop not to cancel today. When I woke up I peered outside through my blinds and saw snow deep enough that I couldn't tell how deep it actually was, and it was still coming down. My first thought was that this did not bode well for the ward Christmas program. As I mentioned before, our ward music chairperson had been in charge of putting together the Christmas program singlehandedly, and a couple months ago I had volunteered to help her out because she was (rightfully) more than a bit stressed at the prospect. So somehow I ended up with a major role in pulling the Christmas program together, and when I saw the snow there was no question of me not making the attempt to get to church.

What followed was a very long morning. I pulled out of my parking space at about 7:30 so I could arrive at the church building by eight, and this was a bad move because I promptly got stuck. A couple maintenance people from my apartment complex were out and about shoveling sidewalks and helped me get back in my stall, but when I said I really needed to get out of the parking lot they said, "Oh no, the roads are bad, you're best staying here."

So I made a couple phone calls because I suspected I wasn't the only person having trouble. But others were diligently plowing their way toward church, and I hitched a ride with a friend with a four wheel drive. After three stops to pick up two more ward members and a violin, we hit the road for real knowing that we already had no hope for getting to the church on time for the 8:30 choir practice, but expecting that no one else would be there either. As the minutes passed, we became less and less optimistic about turnout for either the choir or the congregation, but when our ward music chairperson called to say she was stuck and not sure if she would make it at all, I felt even more responsibility to get to church.

I am not sure exactly how long it took us, but it was a long time. We arrived at the building at 9:20, I think, so we had to have been in the car for over an hour, but church had not started yet, and miraculously the entire choir was there, only barely outnumbered by a small congregation. I am still not entirely sure how the Christmas program managed to come together, but it went amazingly well, and then the bishopric sent us all home without any other meetings, and by the time we rolled into my driveway around 12:30 (about the same time I always get home from church) I was exhausted. I didn't particularly want to venture out again, but being cooped up inside gets to me and by the time the evening came around I was willing to venture out again to hang out with other tired-of-being-snowed-in ward members at the institute building.

Anyway, the snow storm was pretty exciting, and I am still amazed that we managed to pull off the Christmas program as well as we did. As willing as I am to serve, I am more than ready to not think about church callings for the next two or three weeks. Or school (at least, as little as possible). I have a little less than three days before heading home and at the moment I'm looking forward to just hanging out and doing not much of anything - that will, I'm sure, last about as long as tomorrow morning before I get tired of being lazy and decide I want to do something, but it will be nice to have the option of not doing anything.