You will have to pardon me for being one of those Floridians who goes against the grain of everyone else and rejoices when the temperature drops so low, it could "almost" (just almost) snow.
I woke up to 34 degrees. That is frigid to a Floridian.
As I was journaling with some coffee, I realized I was smiling. It was probably a good thing that nobody else was here with me to witness it, because my home was freezing cold. I hadn't turned on the heat yet, and I had my thickest scarf and my coat on before heading out to church. Why put the heat on when you can add a really warm layer? That is my thought-process.
I think I was made for the north. I blame my somewhat northern roots. My dad was from the mid-west, and my mom from New York, so it's not my fault! I think my neighborhood owl is pretty happy about this weather, too. I heard him hooting from a tree nearby just a few minutes ago.
January brings the wintry chill, blowing in all the northernness feelings. That deep longing is there every time. I rejoice in it because it brings an actual season. The weather of a season that barely makes an appearance. It is good for us to have season changes. It helps us become more reflective on our own lives and the different seasons that produce fruits and/or lessons. It also helps us appreciate what we have here and now.
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