Somebody, please give me back my tropical island paradise weather. This cold spell is making me miserable. I've never been much a fan of the cold. It's only ever in the movies and magazines where a lady looks dignified in boots and a smart trench coat and a kid looks cute bundled up in a fur-lined jacket. Those stylish and fashionable people only look good because their cold weather doesn't come with the rain. Meanwhile over here in the tropics, the ol' arthritis is acting up, the wind keeps disarranging my already wild hair and floodwaters are threatening to drown the car stuck in traffic.
And the weather experts say this could last till May. Till MAY!!! That's more than forty days of rain. The last time that happened, Noah only survived because he built the ark. Scary thought. Except that the experts say that this is just an effect of la niña or some weird part of the global warming phenomena. And this too shall pass.
And that's what I'm worried about.
Not that I am a masochist or a completely unfeeling human being, indifferent to the needs of the suffering, but that this (this, referring to the aberrations in nature and the weather) too will pass and we will not have learned anything from it. The ancient people believed that the weather and other natural phenomena were somehow tied to their god. In the Bible and in many other ancient traditions, God is associated with nature-from thunder and lightning to the quiet wind, from a fiery flame to the still waters, from the shaking earth to the rustling of the leaves. People looked at gentle rain as a blessing and a fierce storm as a curse or at the very least a warning. People looked to the sky and thanked God for the sun. People looked to the earth and praised God for his bounty. People turned their faces to the gentle wind and felt God's kiss.
But these days, things are different. People are attuned to the weather forecasts and are glued to the meteorologists. And in their effort to rationalize, to demystify, to demythologize, they take God out of the equation. As though He were some indifferent observer looking down on a snow globe called Earth.
But He is the same God who calmed the seas and stilled the storm. He is the same God who walked on water. He spoke through a burning bush and parted the Red Sea. He is the same as He has always been. And if we believe that He spoke to the ancient people through His command of nature, why should we suddenly think that He has since fallen silent?
And so the question we should really be asking is not whether God is trying to speak to us, but rather, what is He trying to say? With all the earthquakes, the tsunamis, the unparalleled snowfall, the active volcanoes, the floods, the forest fires, the las niñas and the los niños, and, yes, especially this strange cold weather in my little tropical island paradise, what is His message?
I don't know. But I think it's about time to get our heads out of the clouds and to listen closely.