I woke up at 3am this morning and looked at my phone. It was -12 degrees out. That’s MINUS 12! I think it hit -17 sometime before dawn. I’m certain I’ve never experienced temperatures this cold before, and hopefully never will again. Still, I was warm and protected, so I just lay there, only a couple feet from the danger lurking on the other side of my bedroom wall, and I thought.
I thought about the time when I went camping and started shaking because I couldn’t get warm.
I thought about my church members, and hoped everyone’s furnaces were functioning.
I thought about my parents, and my in-laws, and hoped they had power, and plenty of blankets.
I thought about people without a good shelter, people who have fallen through the cracks, people whose lives might be in danger.
I thought about utility workers, braving the frigid temperatures to keep the rest of us safe.
And the more I thought, the more I realized I was praying. Praying for a world that can be so cold. Praying for a Spirit that can thaw it. Praying for the deficiencies in my own faithfulness, the “negatives” and the “minuses”.
I prayed in the middle of a frigid night, for the Refiner’s Fire…
And as the temperature slipped to -13,
I counted the warmth I felt inside
as a Plus.
Have a great week,
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