Sitting in my newly remodeled dining room, enjoying my hot black coffee the view out my window is lovely and you would never guess that if you stepped outside the blast of Arctic air hits you in the face like a two by four.
No, you don’t understand.
It’s not ordinary winter cold.
It’s frigid cold.
18 degrees below zero cold.
My fingers clumsily trip over the keyboard because they’re cold. And I’m inside.
I hate cold.
From the safety of my home the day is still beautiful despite the bone chilling winds.
Immune to the hurt and pain around me.
Desensitized by life and reacting to hurts, I erect ice walls brick by brick. Layer upon layer of anger, pride, annoyance, judgement, greed…fill in the blank.
And I see it all around me too– this cold cold heart. Sometimes it comes out in cutting humor, a critical negative attitude or just a jaded, cynical view of life and people and God. Cold hearts don’t discriminate based on race, age, socioeconomic status, intelligence, religion or politics.
Everyone is at risk. No one’s immune.
Salutes my ravished ears;
Rejoice, thou ransomed souls, rejoice!
And dry those falling tears!
This wondrous thing to see;
And there the dying Lord behold,
Stretched on the bloody tree.
‘Sinners’, he cried, ‘behold the head,
This thorny wreath entwines;
Look on those wounded hands and read
Thy name in crimson lines.’
The power, the sweetness of that voice
My stony heart does move;
Makes me in Christ my Lord rejoice
And melts my soul to love.