Snow and the Space at the Top of the Stairs

 It's still snowing as I write this.

Look, I've lived in Minneapolis. I know what "real" snow looks like, what "real" cold feels like. The snowstorm we're having (it looks to be at least 4 inches, probably much more) doesn't reach "significant" on a Twin Cities scale. But here in Southern Louisiana City, it's--well, we're getting more than I've ever seen in this state.

It's beautiful, sure. Our interstate is just outside my bedroom window. I never don't hear the constant hum-rumble (sometimes a vibration I feel) of cars and trucks going 24/7. I can see it from my window. It's silent now, an eerie sensation. 

Hopefully I can find my old Lego snow speeder and take some fun shots in the snow.

But at this point, with heavy snow scheduled for the rest of the day, I'm getting a little worried.

I hope the power holds. I hope people stay off of roads.

I hope our unhoused population finds some warm refuge. 

I think about all the time and money I spent looking for a heated mat for our outdoor cat on Sunday. I found one--extra-large--for an exorbitant price. It fit into the cardboard box we set up for her under a heat lamp. We plugged it in, waited, and found it didn't work. She's making due (happily) with the heat lamp and a medical heating pad we had.

And then I think of the unhoused person sleeping at the top of a staircase at our church on Sunday. We let her be--she's a friend of the church, and we're happy to turn a blind eye to let her get out of the wind when she can. We have funds to help folk, and do help unhoused people get food. But we're not set up to offer shelter. We don't keep buildings heated when no one's there. The regulations for our preschool/afterschool preclude us from allowing just anyone into spaces. 

All of these excuses ring pitiful and self-serving in the face of the record-low temperatures we're to get tonight: 9 degrees. That's significant even by Minneapolis standards. And I don't think the city has plans or means to accommodate folk without access to heating. 

I can't even leave to bring supplies to the relatively sheltered spaces at church due to the roads.

But I spent hours finding supplies for an outdoor cat. That's not without value, I know. But in no way can the plight of a stray cat compare with people suffering without shelter. Baton Rogue, like so many other places, has decided that unhoused people need to be put out of sight rather than helped.  I'm not single-handedly responsible for housing the unhoused. I can't snap my fingers and force the city in to funding and maintaining workable shelters, building more affordable housing, or de-stigmatizing poverty and need. 

But surely I could have found a plug-in pad that worked or step up a heat lamp for a space at the top of the stairs.

I hope the snow ends soon. I hope the sun returns. 

May God who sees all grant these beloved ones warmth and care, and my God forgive me for not participating in that providence. Help me do better, Lord.