In 1977, the British-American rock band, Foreigner, released their hit single Cold As Ice. And while they were singing of a relationship gone awry, the imagery is apropos.
It is very cold. As Cold As Ice.
As I write this I am sitting in the kitchen lingering over a late breakfast/ lunch.
Ice is everywhere.
I went to get some firewood a bit ago, but the driveway was so slick with ice, I envisioned an unhealthy and painful fall… so I came back inside where I sit reading, contemplating, and writing…
Everywhere I look here in the woods of north Warren County is the evidence of cold, bitter weather.
As Vanilla Ice once said, ice, ice, baby.
We are pretty much iced in. When the gravel road is as slick as… well, ice, you are not going anywhere anytime soon.
At this stage of the game, I am thankful we have not lost power and for what remains of our dwindling firewood supply. And if completely honest, I also confess to being thankful for the still warm plate of deer sausage in front of me.
Ice, ice, baby.
And if you want to know the cold, icy truth of my life, I am thankful for the ice today. The ice we are predicted to endure tomorrow is another story, but for today, I am thankful for the forced isolation. I am thankful for the forced slowdown. I am thankful for the time to relax—to have the family home in one place…
Ice, ice, baby.
As God said to Job, Whose womb did the ice come from? Who gave birth to the frost of heaven when water becomes as hard as stone, and the surface of the watery depths is frozen? (Job 38:29-30 HCSB)
Thank you, Lord.
For good food.
And for the ice that pauses and brings reflection.
Ice is cold, but my heart is warm…
Ice, ice, baby!
And by the way, it’s icy not icey out there!
Les Ferguson, Jr.
Somewhere deep in the woods of Oak Ridge…