It's a major snowstorm, and we could wake up to over six inches accumulation of snow over ice. The "going" will be difficult tomorrow morning, if not hazardous. No one in their right mind ought to be battling to get out of their house or driveway before the situation is safer. So worship has been cancelled tomorrow morning.
It's odd, but every time I have to make this decision, and after I have done so (with the stalwart collaboration of the two churchwardens) I feel a strange mixture of relief, guilt and anxiety. Relief that the decision has been made; guilt that the decision of a few will be imposed on the desire of some, letting them down as it were; and anxiety that we will open our eyes in the morning to see a mere inch of melting snow and warm sunshine.
But we do our best. And I'm sure that the Almighty understands that. We're in a deep snowdrift if he doesn't...
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