A lot of people dread Mondays. I don't mind them, actually - after a (usually) restful Lord's day, most Monday mornings find me about as fresh and not-yet-overwhelmed as I ever am. Starting a new week isn't so bad, is it? It's empty and exciting and hopeful - with what shall we fill it?
It's Tuesdays that get to me.
They're just so busy. Today, for example, went like this: Wake up (late, I admit); Skip shower (no time); Breakfast in the car (bread and bananas) after leaving at 8:30 for music lessons (1 hr there, (3) 1 hr lessons for the sibs and me); Wal-Mart run while we're in town (grab something cheap for lunch, and 50 lbs of apples for $0.30/lb - yayeah); Pick up three largeish boxes of meat from the locker on the way home (~30 minutes out of our way); Frantically unload car upon arriving home (don't bother removing coat or shoes); Drive younger brother to work (~30 minute round trip); Stop home to switch vehicles (1.5 minutes); Drive to town to play with Landon (hour and a halfish); Teach two piano lessons a couple blocks away (supposed to be an hour, always goes over); Run to Casey's and fill up the dangerously low tank on the Vue (grab supper inside - dessert pizza, Pringles, Arizona "tea" - convenience stores = bad); Drive to the grain elevator and eat a leisurely half-hour supper before commencing to spend 3 hours cleaning the offices (keep the music loud and forget about being kidnapped); Finish Pringles in the car, and arrive home at 11:00 p.m. Except for the detour to the meat locker, the cheap apples, and sometimes taking Keegan to work, that's pretty normal.
The point is - I was thinking the other day about some of the million kajillion things I love about this world and my life and my God, and how as long as I'm blogging anyway I should really make a habit of expounding on these innumerable blessings. And I chose Tuesday to try and kick-start this habit, because that's when I need to focus on what's good in life, instead of on how long it's been since I saw the inside of my house or took off my shoes. We'll see how many Tuesdays in a row I can keep this up. (My list is long enough to last the rest of my life; consistency in thinking and writing will be the challenge.)
So, today I love ...
... cold weather.
Is this true? In a weird way, it is.
I hate being cold. Some of the other things I plan on writing about in the near future are sweaters, blankets, boots, scarves, hot tea, soup, lattes, and fireplaces. Cold is isolating, hopeless, alone. Warmth is home.
But that's why I love the cold. I don't typically feel a lot of charity toward it when it's invading my immediate environment, but I love that it exists. Because there's just nothing like going out (for whatever useful or frivolous reason), getting thoroughly chilled, and then coming back in to get warm. Pink cheeks, cold and a little hard to the touch, softening and drinking in the heat; stiff fingers coming to life; the tension of survival easing into a warm, happy coma. Pull it into your heart and cherish it - did you understand before how good it was just to be warm?
It's the same reason I'm thankful for dirty jobs and the showers that follow; for aches, pains, and illnesses, and the new-found appreciation afterward for good health; for long periods of crazy-busyness so I can see the beauty of a quiet, normal life; for arduous journeys to come home from; for pain and then comfort; even - and especially - for death leading to life.
That got deep in a hurry.
Unfortunately, it's also gotten late in a hurry, and I must flee. It seems to be Wednesday now, thus indicating a failure on my part to even get out of the gate with this "habit" without falling behind. Man ... I'm going to have to get better at this.
G'night.
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