The long and gray winter months can be a bit too much to stomach in Seattle. The water that surrounds the city reflects what is above it, usually low and gray cloud cover which can have a claustrophobic effect as the months wear on. Seattle in the winter and spring can be a dreary place to be. However, it is weather from weeks like this past one (and hopefully continued in the forecast for the weekend) that remind me why I live in this city and in this climate. There is something spectacular about the plentiful green trees in this region backdropped by a brilliant blue sky and equally brilliant blue water which is surrounded by majestic mountains to both the east and the west.

Driving back home from Minnesota a few years ago on I-90 I took in a lot of beauty along the way. The badlands in Wyoming and South Dakota, the mountains in Montana. Still, my biased eyes felt the views were increasingly spectacular the further I headed west.

The weather/climate I experienced while living in Minnestoa was extreme: frigid winters and hot and humid summers. This was quite a change from the mild NW climate that I was accustomed to. In some ways this change in climate mirrored the life I lived in Minnesota: it was an extreme time in many ways.

Upon my return to Seattle I found that I needed to adjust to the mildness of life again -- both literally and figuratively. Not only had I grown used to a more extreme climate, on a foundational level, I had also grown used to instability on both a spiritual and relational level. Now, some of what I learned and experienced through this instability was good, but some if it was also bad.

In my upside down world a return to stability at that time seemed . . . too safe. Perhaps even dishonest. Life is complicated and hard, right? In that context, admitting there might be "answers" to my questions about God, life and other people made me uncomfortable with myself. If there were "answers" to my questions on some level, than that required that I change and reorient myself again.

Looking back now, I feel that I craved stability even if I feared it at the same time. I had equated stability with a static life that contained no growth or change. Of course, that is a potential pitfall. Still, I pray that I am growing and learning each day and continuting to hold the paradox of what I know and believe along with the infintely more that is beyond my human comprehension.

And hey, it's supposed to be in the 90s this weekend in mild 'ol Seattle. I guess even stability can have some variety perks (I apologize for the cheesy weather tie-in at the end).