What Will January Bring?

 

Dear Diary,

This morning the thermometer said 7° below zero, and the wind chill was 40 below—the kind of cold that doesn’t just bite, it feels like it’s trying to steal your breath. Even the world outside looked scared of itself.

Because it was so terribly cold, Holy Mass at St. Mary’s was canceled, and everyone was encouraged to stay indoorsexcept for the most necessary chores—especially tending the livestock. I missed church so much, but I understood. Sister Mary Claire said that when the weather turns dangerous, obedience can look like staying put and keeping life safe.

We kept the stove working like it was our little guardian. That load of oak our good neighbor brought is being put to very good use—each log feels like a gift all over again. The house warmed up in layers, slowly, the way a person warms up after being out in the cold too long.

I brought Omelette inside, my brown hen, because I couldn’t stand the thought of her in that sharp air. She blinked her eyes like she couldn’t believe she had been invited into the warm house, and then she settled as calm as anything. Ministayed close to us and watched everything like she was on duty too.

Sister Mary Claire had me let the water trickle at the hydrant so the pipes wouldn’t freeze. That soft little sound of running water felt almost brave, like a small voice saying, “We are not giving up.”

And today I kept thinking about the shepherds in the meditation—how they hastened to the crib without waiting for comfort or perfect conditions. They went because God called. And even though we couldn’t “go” to Mass today, I felt like we could still hasten in our own way: hasten to our duties, hasten to protect what God has placed in our care, hasten to gratitude instead of complaining.

Still… I looked out at the drifting snow and that hard blue sky and thought, what will January bring? If December can be this fierce, I wonder what the next month is saving up. Sister Mary Claire said we shouldn’t borrow trouble, but it’s hard not to wonder when the cold feels so strong.

Tonight I am praying for everyone—especially anyone who has to be out in this weather, and anyone whose stove is weak or whose woodpile is low.

Evening Prayer

Dear Jesus,

Please keep us safe in this bitter cold. Watch over our animals, our neighbors, and everyone who has to work outdoors. Thank You for our warm stove and the oak wood that is keeping us alive and comfortable. Help me to be simple and faithful like the shepherds—quick to do Your will, and quick to thank You.

Amen.

Resolution

Tomorrow I will do my duties promptly and cheerfully, and I will offer the day’s cold and inconvenience to Jesus without grumbling.

Love, Kathy