Rejoice?

It's challenging to feel joyful when the outside thermometer reads minus five degrees at 5 AM, and the temperature at noon is only three degrees. Today the blustery wind remains brutal. Hungry birds flock to our feeder every hour. There's no sign of the field mouse today; it's probably holed-up somewhere in a cozy nest. Ditto the gray squirrels. The hens remain in their coop, doors latched against drafts. The furnace is working overtime. The antidotes to such cold include wearing layers of warm clothing, remaining inside, and sipping hot liquids.

My mother-in-law gave me a pair of hand-knit wool socks for Christmas that she purchased at a craft sale. They're toasty when paired with a thin cotton sock underneath them. I take my layering seriously. I rejoice that God blessed me with new winter socks.

Venturing outside to replenish the feeder and tend to the hens requires a lengthy ritual of donning coat, scarf, hat (with the coat's hood pulled up over the hat), and mittens. Ditto a trip down the driveway to the mailbox located on the other side of the road from our house.

Preparing a pot of soup from scratch for supper seems like a good idea on such a frigid, cloudy afternoon. I'll begin with a base of onion, celery, and garlic, add chicken broth, and toss in whatever is on hand: diced potatoes, sliced carrots, peas, perhaps a handful of barley, some stewed tomatoes, and a bit of tomato sauce. This IS the day the Lord has made - cold or not - and I'm grateful for the gifts of shelter, heat, and the joy of a hot bowl of soup topped with a dollop of plain Greek yogurt. A crisp Macoun apple for dessert. Yum-o.

There's hope in the increasing daylight. We're up to an increase of 10 minutes a day. I rejoice in that too.