Mini Avalanches

Up until about 4 months ago I had no idea what it was like to live in a place where earthquakes happen. I have never been so adventurous as to happen upon circumstances where large masses of earth around me were moving. Who would have thought that living in this tiny, corner, first floor apartment would enlighten me to the sort of fear that those living in earthquake-prone areas might be have experienced?

The ice charges down the slanted roof and sounds as if the entire apartment has been dislodged from its base. I instantly fear that the ice chunks as big as me might come crashing through the window as they land onto the snow that is piled right up to the sill.

It had woken me up at night and startled me as I watched a movie. It is hard to fathom how such large chunks of solid ice have formed up on top of that roof. Sometimes it is a mixture of snow and ice and has been so forceful and close to the other side of my wall that it knocked a picture down and broke the glass plate. I don't feel safe here and leaving is in my best interest. Not to mention those huge, first floor windows have no screen and don't lock.

The more it snows, the closer its surface comes to the window. The ice chunks are as big as me, as I mentioned, and what's stopping them from plummeting down and then rolling towards my window thus breaking through? I fear for the cats who meander back there, the place that is to be the final resting place of the chunks.

My faith keeps me alive as I sit and consider the concept of life. We should make our soul's windows stronger so we can prevent the mini avalanches from breaking us. And we can be prepared for the big ones and some how make it out alright. Life is funny, cold and sometimes hot, but we must constantly generate steady warmth to keep us safe. Love instead of hate, sympathy before disdain, and understanding rather than dismissal. We must do it, and we will be okay.