Polar vortex
Ah, polar vortex. By far the coolest weather term ever (pun intended). Much edgier than last year's snow hole.
Though our version of vortex drama paled in comparison to that of the northern half of the country, still it caused quite the buzz round these parts. As the sun set on Monday, winds started whipping, schools announced their closing, and temperatures plummeted. Plummet. That's another good word.
We awoke on Tuesday morning to this.
Do you see it? The teeny tiny little 2 on my phone? Never, ever seen that before.
Also found this.
That is our front storm door encrusted with ice on the inside. The condensation between the storm door and the front door froze. Solid.
Yep, cold. I couldn't remember if I had ever really felt what two degrees feels like. My Mama will so get my tail for this, but I stepped out in it for a bit. In short sleeves and flip flops. Just to see what it felt like. Trying to live abundantly here.
It hurt. The first ten seconds were OK, but then a breeze came up and my skin started tingling and it got a little bit hard to breathe.
That's cold, baby! Living on the edge, I tell you.
And so we were blessed with yet another day of being home together as a family. The boys, who are still teetering on boredom from the looooong Christmas break, managed to fill up their time well.
Trey did homework on his super-cool desk
and later held very involved basketball games in the kitchen. The microwave serves as his clock, he uses pencil and paper to keep up with score, and his goals are squares of painter's tape on the wall. In Trey's words, "Aden can't break those."
Aden did some chillin with his Mama
and held a rockin Fresh Beat Band dance party in his room. Aden's current version of dancing is either running a few steps and throwing himself on the floor, or extending his elbows and making giant circles with them while kind of squat-bouncing. Kid's got skills.
The other way we filled our day, and on a much more serious note, was to visit Meemaw Margaret in the hospital. Unfortunately, she suffered a debilitating stroke on Monday evening. Oh, how I pray for God's healing power, for his peace and direction for my Dad and his brother and sister as they make some difficult decisions, and for something good to come from this.
The same prayers I send up for my Pawpaw Melvin, still fighting cancer. Healing, peace, hope.
My God is bigger than any disease, any prognosis, any difficult situation. He "is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think" (Ephesians 3:20). And we ask a lot, don't we? In His time and in His way, He gives beauty for ashes. He is the great healer.
The song has it right - we're all one phone call from our knees. There have been a few of those throughout my life. Age, perspective, and the constant, proven faithfulness of the Lord have helped me steer away from panic and toward trust. Trust in a God who never fails.
Ever.
And so we emerge from the bitter cold joyfully, thankfully, and prayerfully. Pressing on toward whatever life will bring us next.
Though our version of vortex drama paled in comparison to that of the northern half of the country, still it caused quite the buzz round these parts. As the sun set on Monday, winds started whipping, schools announced their closing, and temperatures plummeted. Plummet. That's another good word.
We awoke on Tuesday morning to this.
Do you see it? The teeny tiny little 2 on my phone? Never, ever seen that before.
Also found this.
That is our front storm door encrusted with ice on the inside. The condensation between the storm door and the front door froze. Solid.
Yep, cold. I couldn't remember if I had ever really felt what two degrees feels like. My Mama will so get my tail for this, but I stepped out in it for a bit. In short sleeves and flip flops. Just to see what it felt like. Trying to live abundantly here.
It hurt. The first ten seconds were OK, but then a breeze came up and my skin started tingling and it got a little bit hard to breathe.
That's cold, baby! Living on the edge, I tell you.
And so we were blessed with yet another day of being home together as a family. The boys, who are still teetering on boredom from the looooong Christmas break, managed to fill up their time well.
Trey did homework on his super-cool desk
and later held very involved basketball games in the kitchen. The microwave serves as his clock, he uses pencil and paper to keep up with score, and his goals are squares of painter's tape on the wall. In Trey's words, "Aden can't break those."
Aden did some chillin with his Mama
and held a rockin Fresh Beat Band dance party in his room. Aden's current version of dancing is either running a few steps and throwing himself on the floor, or extending his elbows and making giant circles with them while kind of squat-bouncing. Kid's got skills.
The other way we filled our day, and on a much more serious note, was to visit Meemaw Margaret in the hospital. Unfortunately, she suffered a debilitating stroke on Monday evening. Oh, how I pray for God's healing power, for his peace and direction for my Dad and his brother and sister as they make some difficult decisions, and for something good to come from this.
The same prayers I send up for my Pawpaw Melvin, still fighting cancer. Healing, peace, hope.
My God is bigger than any disease, any prognosis, any difficult situation. He "is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think" (Ephesians 3:20). And we ask a lot, don't we? In His time and in His way, He gives beauty for ashes. He is the great healer.
The song has it right - we're all one phone call from our knees. There have been a few of those throughout my life. Age, perspective, and the constant, proven faithfulness of the Lord have helped me steer away from panic and toward trust. Trust in a God who never fails.
Ever.
And so we emerge from the bitter cold joyfully, thankfully, and prayerfully. Pressing on toward whatever life will bring us next.
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