God, I'm Cold

I’m living in a shop. Let me rephrase that, I am still living in a shop. And it’s winter, and its cold, and there’s snow and slush, and ice, and I’m living with my coat always at hand. Am I complaining? No! I’m simply stating facts.

But, I must say, I’m cold.

My fam and I can’t go sledding and come home to a nice, cozy, warm house and defrost with hot chocolate in front of a fire. There’s no house, I don’t know which box our hot chocolate is in, and the only fireplace is the burn barrel outside, which would defeat the purpose. So now what? What do we do? Do we huddle together and curse the snow?

Nah. That wouldn’t do anything.

A few weeks ago, I ran some errands with my mom. I was warring wool socks and boots, but my feet were cold. I remember sitting in the car, staring at my feet, and wondering if gasoline or cesarean, when poured on my feet, would heat my little toes faster. That’s when I decided something, something I had to set in my mind. I decided I would be fine being cold.

There’s no escaping the cold, it’s wherever I go now, and there’s no use being an icicle about it and throwing fists at the sky. I decided to be cold, decided to be fine with it, and decided to not blame God, or anyone else for that matter.

And God is good. He had friends give us space heaters and a HUGE trailer to live in for a few months. Without those things, I don’t know how my family and I would be right now.

Praise God! He always provides!