It is seven degrees outside.
I feel like I’ve entered some sort of dystopian fantasy novel. I keep looking out the window, waiting for people with blue faces and laser guns to come around the corner because this can’t be real, right?
But every time I check the outdoor thermometer, it’s real. And just in case you’re wondering if my thermometer is broken, there are dagger-sized icicles hanging from the trees in my yard. Maybe I should break a few of them off to use as self-defense against the blue-faced people.
The one perk of this hellish cold is the fact that I finally get to use my fireplace without having to turn on the air conditioner. I’ve even rearranged my living room so my comfy chair is pulled right up next to the fire. It’s kinda cozy, as long as I don’t move from that spot. The problem is, I keep moving from that spot.
First I forgot my phone on the kitchen table, so I had to retrieve it. Then I ran out of hot tea, so I made a repeat trip to the kitchen, but by the time I filled the cup with hot water and a bag of chi and went back to the living room, I had a cup of iced tea. Finally, I had to relieve myself because of all the cups of tea.
Each time I returned to my cozy chair, I’d pull the blanket up around me and sink down, snug as a baby koala, and vow to never leave that spot again. But every half hour or so, something would pull me away and there I’d go, traipsing far from my heat source.
My son informed me, through chattering teeth, that there’s no such thing as cold. The conversation went something like this:
Him: “Mom, it’s not cold. Cold doesn’t exist.”
Me: “Really? It sure feels cold to me.”
Him: “There’s no such thing as cold.”
Me: “Then why are my fingers numb?”
Him: “There is only absence of heat. That’s what this is . . . the absence of heat.”
I'm glad he cleared that up. I feel so much warmer now.
Truly, the whole absence of heat idea makes sense, when you think about who The Light of the World is. There have been times in my life when I’ve felt a chill, deep in my spirit. When that happens, I often realize I’ve wandered away from my source of warmth, of comfort, of life. I’ve drifted away from God. When I snuggle close to Him, my world may not be perfect, but I feel much more settled and cozy in my soul.
It never fails. Each time I vow to never stray from Him again, something tries to pull me away. But when I draw close to Him, He comes close to me, warming me with His presence.
Renae Brumbaugh Green is a bestselling author and award-winning humor columnist. She lives in Stephenville with her handsome, country-boy husband, nearly-perfect children, and far too many animals. Connect with Renae at www.RenaeBrumbaugh.com.