It’s winter. It’s cold. It’s gray. I’m chilly. I’m shivering.
I’ve traded tall glasses of cool water for earthen mugs filled with steaming H2O to warm my hands, throat and insides as I hydrate myself throughout the day.
Throws and blankets litter my couches, so no matter what room I’m in, whether I’m writing, reading, chatting, playing, anything, I can snuggle into the warmth their thick folds offer.
My fuzzy slipper boots with the leopard print haven’t seen my closet in weeks. They are either on my feet or next to my bed, eager for me to trade out my clompy boots at the end of the day and slide into their softness.
I am drawn by the warmth and dancing flames in the fireplace. I savor the scent of coffee, rich and strong in the mornings. I look forward to layering fluffy sweaters and fur vests over my body.
But part of me, something deep inside of me, longs for outdoors.
Like our tortoise, who revels in sunning himself under his heat lamp, but always seems to be planning his great escape, I want to bang my head against the windows and find a way out of my terrarium, aka my house, and out, where there’s air and sky and breezes and life.
So, today, I went running outside. I wore long underwear and a turtleneck and a hooded sweatshirt tied tight around my face. Thick, polar fleece gloves encased my fingers. But, I felt it. I felt Him.
Outside, I am always closer to my Maker and always closer to me, the person He made me to be. The park was desolate except for one person walking their dog and a pair of soccer players passing the ball back and forth, the leather echoing against their cleats in the stillness of the day.
I inhaled long and hard the cold, crisp winter air. It broke through my fog and stirred my lethargy and made me feel alive. The wind stung my eyes, making them tear up, but the tears were warm and wet and real, and seemed to cleanse a film off my lenses making everything more vivid.
The air in my warm nest of a home has become stale with the hum of the heater. But the air outside was as fresh as a farmer’s market, alive and new, just grown today, for my lungs to take in and push back out.
I returned home to a soothing warm shower, my favorite jeans, three layers of tops and of course, my slippers. As I sit here and write, I sip steaming water and intermittently clutch the warm mug to my chest. But my soul is stirred.
My eyes are wider. My heart beats faster. My mind races with ideas.
My cozy home is a safe haven for shelter and heat, but I do not need to hibernate. I will take the gift of life, the essence of the universe and infuse it into my very soul and all I do.
I will take the gift of creation and visit it again sooner, rather than later, to keep me in sync with my Creator and His plans for me.
3/3/2012 01:37:33 am
Cool post, Laura! I love that picture of the runner. I can just feel that cold air entering my lungs. Do you really sip steaming water or tea? Just curious. :-)
3/3/2012 02:23:52 am
Thanks Jill! Truly hot water :D. I adore tea, but I guzzle water all day long every day, and in the winter it's truly too cold for me to tolerate. I heat my water and pour it in a mug and drink 9 or 10 mugs during a day.
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Laura L. Smith