Let it Snow.
Dawn touches the shades drawn across my window and I pinch my blinds open to look out into the sunrise and my backyard. Snow is beginning to accumulate on the stone steps leading to my back gate; it looks like I’ll be leaving a little earlier for work today. The morning rush to get my things together is slowed when I take a moment to survey the scene out of my kitchen window. It is the same view as my bedroom, only a story lower. The snow is falling and I sip my piping hot coffee and contemplate calling in ‘cold’ to work. Not sick, cold.
The cold has been an interesting subject for me in these last few months in Colorado. I do feel that I love it, not because I enjoy feeling cold, but because it reminds me of where my warmth comes from.
It’s time for work and I pass the day working on administrative tasks and necessary details. I come away from my eight hours feeling a little drained, yet inspired to find work outside of the reign of four walls.
I make a vow: by 2020 my income will come predominantly from writing. How I am going to do this, I have no idea but I vow it nonetheless.
The snow crunches under my feet as I make my way through campus to my parked car. I laugh to myself and think about my adaptability. While I certainly enjoy this strength of mine, I also wonder if it allows me to quickly become more complacent. If I feel okay with something too quickly, does it mean I am settling for good and not great? These are the questions I ponder as I follow the line of cars back into Denver.
Although I have left my job behind, the work is not done. A quick dinner of eggs and spinach and I am sitting at the heavy wooden kitchen table with my computer and a stack of textbooks to my right. Reading must be completed, homework has to be considered, but first my writing calls to me.
My fingers itch to write about inspiration and goal setting but my heart sinks when I consider how unworthy I am to motivate others. What have I got to say that will change another person’s life?
And then I remember where my warmth comes from… The source is a deep and overwhelming passion for change and growth and love. The source is my desire to be the best possible version of myself, and the source of my warmth is found in scripture, the Holy Spirit, and my walk with God. When I remember who I am writing for, the fear and insecurities lose the battle (for now) and I am ready to embrace the cold with the warmth I exude.
The days are long and yet I know how quickly the months and years go (February is upon us). If I do not pursue my passions now, I never will. This constant fight and battle for drawing near to Christ and sanctification are a part of the long days. It’s easy to shrink away from the cold when you are not equipped, but I am.
Let it snow.
**This has been an excerpt from a 30 day writing project I am participating in for this month. The prompt was a hypothetical day in the life.