Getting Warmer

Your teeth are chattering as your feet sink deep into the snow with every step. Snow always seems like a good idea until you are driving in it or walking through it in the middle of the night. Just a couple more feet and you are there. The memory of the pictures of the cozy cabin with dimly lit lights and a warm fire blazing in the fire place is almost tangible. You fumble for the keys in your pocket but your bulky gloves make it impossible to identify what anything is. Only a few seconds go by as you quickly remove the glove, find your keys and unlock the door. The knob jerks, but the door slides open as you lean into it. Once inside you take a deep breath as an audible sigh of relief exits your frozen lungs. Leaning against the door, you can just taste the coffee and feel the fleece tucked around your lap.

Your eyes open suddenly. Why are you not warming up? You've been inside for several minutes avoiding the icy wind. Where is the thermostat? The kitchen, hallway, master bedroom, guest bedroom, utility room, storage closet, and entryway are all empty. The walls hold memories captured in frames, mounted antlers, a hand-carved wooden coat rack, and other various prized possessions to create an atmosphere of comfort, but no thermostat. The iron rack by the fireplace has mere twigs and pieces of logs that would barely start a fire let along sustain one for the night. There's no heat.

You walk to the center of the home and curl up on the couch staring blankly at the fireplace. You know, if God wanted you to be warm, then He would just make you warm. You just need to wait on Him to make you warm. Yes, wait on Him, and as you do so make sure you are grateful that you at least have a roof over your head.

Waiting still. A shiver down your spine moves you to stand up and walk around the room. Well, you know, if God wanted you to be warm, He would send someone to make a fire for you. That's it. Just go wait by the window for someone to come. Any time now. Tap, tap, tap, a branch outside knocks the roof in rhythmic pattern. Thirty-seven seconds pass as you draw stick figures on the window with what little heat is in your breath.

Ok, maybe you need a new plan. As you fumble through the drawers in the kitchen you feel a box. If your bones didn't hurt from shivering, you would leap for joy as your hands ran over the box of matches. The only thing that would make you happier right now is your arms outstretched to a fire already crackling in the fireplace. You look over at the twigs once again and sigh; that simply will not be enough. A rug on the ground, curtains hung from ceiling to floor, books on the shelf in the corner - you have options. Not great options, but they are options. You could just light the curtains on fire. That would make you warm, but it could also potentially burn the house down. For a moment, your running nose and visible breath almost convince you. You quickly put the matches on the end table before you make any rash decisions.

You have to think this through. If you go back out there, you are going to be cold. Probably colder than you have ever been. You will have to find an axe, and spend at least an hour out there chopping wood. There is no way you will be able to carry it back by yourself, at least not in one trip. Surely you aren't supposed to go out there and chop wood. The pictures in the catalog definitely didn't show a half frozen person chopping wood in several feet of snow in the middle of the night. You haven't received any formal training on this. What if something goes wrong? No one in your whole life told you that you would have to chop wood one day.

You will have to think for yourself on this one.

It needs to be done. You put on your glove and grab the door knob. What are you choosing?

Is there anything else you want to know?

I am daughter, technically the youngest and the second youngest. I am sister, cousin, friend. I am wife, mother. I am housekeeper, dog belly scratcher. I am driver, office manager, administrator. I am sunday school teacher, lover of small squishy faces and the coos that tiny angels make. I am sometimes called baby whisperer, but I am always just trying to comfort. I am more of a do-er than a be-er. I am logical, planned, comfortable with boxes. I am outgoing, friendly, open, conversational. I am a big fan of long, slow, deep breaths. In. And. Out. I am a little knowledgeable and a lot curious. I am strong, sort of. I am a documenter, thinker. I am an abstract art lover, but also a minimalist. I am contradictory in personality to some, but perfectly designed by One.

If you are reading this, hello.

There was no use, but he tried to straighten the creases out of the paper across his knee. He fumbled through his worn shirt pocket to find a dull pencil. As he hovered over the blank lines, his dirty and calloused hands shook.

"There is much I could tell you, but none that would change your mind from what they will write about us. Their opinions will become your memories of how it used to be as you memorize dates, names, and places. But only we know how it really was. This was not a time of war, although war existed. This was not a time of bliss, although we did experience joy. There is so much that we would have changed, if it could have left our hearts the same. If you are reading this, hello. Live your life better than we did, but just know we gave it our best shot."

He folded it several times over and opened the dented metal tin. His fingers gently slid over the few things that he had chosen to represent the years of memories he had made while growing up. How was he supposed to pick only a few things to represent a life of love, joy, adventure, and creativity?

He buried the tin in the ground, grabbing large handfuls of fresh ground.

As he walked away, he never looked back.

"There you go, lovely."

Snooze alarm.
What am I doing? I never snooze my alarm.
Snooze alarm again.
Get out of bed, seriously.
Snooze alarm again.
Okay, this time I'm going to just turn it off and get up.
Get up to let the dog out.
I should have put on a jacket. It's freezing out here.
Feed the dog.
How bland. At least we feed her steak every now and then.
Wake up the sleepy Sweetness and get her ready.
She's so warm and cuddly; I could just stay in bed with her all day.
Kiss the handsome Hubs good bye and get in the car.
Where is an ice scraper when I need one? Also, I wish it was this cold on Christmas.
Stop to get gas.
Why is she screaming in the car? Oh, she wants to play peekaboo.
Play peekaboo while strangers stare at me like I'm insane.
Drop peekaboo Sweetness off to school.
She didn't even really say goobye.
Place my mobile order for Starbucks.
I love this. I love this app. I love espresso. 
While driving, think about my Monday to-do list that turns into thoughts about my entire life to-do list.
There is so much I need to be doing better.
Walk in and request my order.
"There you go, lovely." he says.

And any failure I was thinking of was gone.
It was such a simple gesture that made a world of a difference.

Proverbs 16:24
Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body.

Proverbs 18:21
Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruit.

What you say matters. Can you think of someone to bless with kindness today?