My Car Is Cold
Frosted grass crunched beneath my feet as I rounded the corner at the front of the house and saw my little red Honda had been dusted overnight, its windows frosted icy white. If my car could speak it would surely say, "I am cold!"
But of course, so am I on this frosty first trip out to walk the dog this morning, with the outdoor temperature at 24 degrees. (Yes, I checked the weather report before we headed out.) I think my dog Valentino felt the chill too, as he took care of business rather quickly and had no objection to heading right back home and not take his usual long morning stroll in the neighborhood. Once back inside the house, he jumped up on my bed and dug himself into the warm bedding for a cozy morning nap.
I poured myself my first mug of hot coffee, brewed while we walked, and settled in to writing for a bit. My mind kept telling me I should get ready for church but a little voice in my head also said, "You've been sick this week. Maybe you should stay home again today."
The spirit feels the need for the comfort of my spiritual community while the body calls for me to hole up inside my warm home. My Honda might appreciate the warmth of its engine running for a bit to defrost its windows. Or, maybe the car would prefer to thaw out slowly with the bit of sunshine now peeking through the icy glaze.
I have a bit of time to decide whether to brave the cold air outside or stay at home. In the meantime, I will sit here at my desk for a spell with the rays of the sun shining through the window, cutting through the cold, warming me inside out.
Image Credit » Photo is of my cold car and is copyright Ruth Cox