“Okay, God, we get the joke.  Nice one.  You’ve done the joke long enough, it’s time to move on.  We get the four seasons joke but we don’t like one of them anymore.  It’s this winter thing You keep flinging at us every year.  What you send us is beautiful in its pure white form falling mysteriously from clouds we can’t name but then it seems to pile up and up and then turns grey or gray (we call it slush in Wisconsin) and then it sometimes freezes and then it stays with us until mid-June.

Driving is getting crazy enough without Your “White Christmas” routine for five months.  You must know about the macho 60 and 70 years old who go out and shovel Your stuff and then fall over dead.  Or the poor older woman who slips and falls after leaving the grocery store and her milk mixes in the grey or gray slush.  We all know that you’re old God but don’t you know how cold affects old bones?  It’s not pretty.  Sometimes we even think of using Your name in a disparaging way but luckily we pause.  We probably pause only because there’s an ice patch up ahead and we need to be careful.

You know God that “three” is the perfect number.  You taught us that.  It’s your fault.  What would be so bad, if I may brave a suggestion to You Almighty, if the season of fall just continues to spill over those old winter months and we then segue into spring.  Doesn’t that make sense to You.  You of all people.  “Father, Son, Spirit?”  Summer, Fall, Spring?  Get it?  Not to tell you what you already know but Your Son didn’t spend four days in the tomb, it was well I guess you know the answer.

And Jonah?  Four?  I think not.

Let’s look at this from your perspective.  Wouldn’t more people come to church more often if the weather were a little pleasant.  How many times I’ve heard, “The weather was just too bad for us to attend, Father.”

Making angels in the snow was fun for awhile but then this bone thing began to happen as the years gathered upon us.  Isn’t there some pagan country where you could shift winter for a few seasons, if not forever?

I don’t mean to tell You Your business… or do I.”