It’s been frigid cold recently in PA. It’s our first winter in our own house. Up to this time we have lived in college dorms together so we haven’t had to worry about heat bills or anything like that. But now that we do have to worry about it, we try to conserve energy by keeping the temperature at a low.
And we live in the upstairs of our house. Since heat rises you would expect that to be the warmest part of the house, but it’s not. It’s like an attic up there. (maybe b/c it was an attic…until it became our bedroom)
So we turned on the heat and our upstairs was still incredibly cold. We would get into bed and huddle like Eskimos under the sheets. We would dress up like we were getting ready to go out into the snow, but instead we were just bundling up to get into our bed.
Then one morning, Aubrey stepped out of bed and noticed that the floor by her side of the bed was warm. And upon more investigation, we found that there was a heat vent under the bed. Woohoo!
So last night we decided to move the bed to get to the heat. But in order to move the bed, we have to pull everything out from under there. We went through old letters to each other, all sorts of shoes, broken things, a hatchet (not sure how that ended up there), all sorts of bags. And then to move the bed, we had to take off the mattress and box spring, which wasn’t easy, because our ceiling is 5’7” and it slopes. So…yeah. Definitely some scratches on my ceiling and bruises on my head.
But moving everything made me think of God’s presence in our lives. It’s often by digging through the junk in our lives that we can get to the source of comfort. The comfort has always been there, but we’ve been searching for it, and yet have kept it covered by all sorts of stuff.