When a Little Cold Weather Makes You See Clear
Like many across the country, we recently weathered an arctic cold front. I guess I should be specific about what sort of temperatures we’re talking about when I say arctic front since I did describe that one 52 degree October day as “frigid.”
We’re talking
real, actual winter weather here. Like weather Central Texans should not have
proper attire to go out in. The backyard thermometer read 8 degrees one
morning. Central Texas doesn’t belong in the single digits. Ever.
I don’t think I do
either. We’re an active and outdoorsy family but we were mostly inside for the three-day
cold snap. The boys, two of them in particular, got very excited about the
weather and did bundle up and venture out. They would be back inside in less
than five minutes bringing the following breaking news report: it’s cold
outside.
Thankfully, this
time around, we had power and water and there was limited ice accumulation, so
other than being trapped inside for about 72 hours with a pack of boys who were
overdue to expend energy running and playing outside, it was an uneventful
polar front.
As I sipped hot
coffee in the warm house and looked out the frosted panes of glass in the
window, I couldn’t help but marvel at the plants and animals that live here. In
July, when it was 108° and we hadn’t had rain in weeks, I was looking at an oak
tree in our yard thinking, “how do these trees live in this place?”
Now it’s January
and literally 100 degrees colder and I’m looking at the same tree thinking the
same thing. I don’t have a scientific answer for you. I also don’t understand
how an elephant can get so big eating plants, how birds migrate (hopefully
further south than here), or how we’re getting by with a nine-member family on
one income.
You can talk
adaptability all you want, but whether we’re talking about preserving trees
through 100 degree swings in temperature or preserving families through an
inflationary economy, I’m telling you we’re in the realm of providential care.
“Look at the birds
of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your
heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?”
It’s a good thing
too.
I look at our family
and our history and there are more times than I can count where the numbers
didn’t add up, the time wasn’t there, or the ability to handle things was
lacking. And yet, here we are, cozy during a freeze, with not just food on the
table but in the pantry too. We’ve also been inexplicably gifted with the
wherewithal to navigate our family through many ups and downs.
I’m grateful that the
Lord has blessed this family and thankful I don’t have to explain it.