In the last week, the greater Cincinnati area has had about ten inches of snow and ice combined.  I’ve had a whole week of snow days.  For most of the week, I have been stuck in my house, alone, doing whatever I want.  It’s been a nice change of pace and I suspect I’ll be ready to return to the real world once this is over.  Since I haven’t had school, I’ve been able to sleep as late as I want, take naps, and generally just lounge around as much as I want. 

I’ve taken a particular notice of this phenomenon that happens in the winter.  I don’t have a name for it, but let me explain a typical situation.

I’ve found the most perfect sleeping position.  My feet, socked or not, are warm.  My neck is supported.  My back is straight.  And man it’s cold outside of the blankets covering me.  So cold that my nose is cold so I pull my head under the covers a bit more.  After I’m perfectly comfortable and warm, I realize that a light is on.  Or I have yet to put my pajamas on.  It’s time to make a decision.  Should I get up and remedy the problem, or stay in bed?  If I get up, I may never find this most perfect sleeping situation ever again.  I’ll have to start all over and the blankets will start to cool off.  …If I move, it’s possible that nothing will ever be the same. 

Have you ever found yourself in that situation?

I hate being cold, so I find myself battling with this all winter long.  In fact, last night, I was watching TV on the couch, warm under my newest fuzzy blue blanket.  After my DVRed Private Practice was over, I turned off the tele, turned my head over on my pillow and thought, “Perfect!” with a sigh.  I smiled and decided I’d sleep right there for the evening.

Then, I realized that one of the lamp lights was on.  And, I hadn’t changed into pajamas.  I was still wearing the clothes from the WinterJam concert.  Gosh, I was warm, though.  And cozy. And sleepy.  Hm.  So, I made the decision to stay under my warmed blanket, in my jeans and hoodie, on my couch, with the light on.  All night.  It was pretty wonderful.  I fell asleep quickly and woke up this morning with the sunlight. 

I find myself experiencing the same strange phenomenon in my walk with Christ.  “Gosh, Jesus, I’m so comfortable.  Things are perfect.  Thank You for the great things You’ve given me,” I’ll pray.  Then, He’ll send this gentle nudge –a holy unsettling of sorts.  I go through a thought process similar to that I’ve just described: “If I get up and take care of this, will things ever be the same?  Will I ever be content and happy again?  What if I do this and I regret it?” 

Sometimes I’m the risk-taker.  Sometimes, I’m all about jumping up and doing what needs to be done.  Sometimes, I’m simply ready to take care of business.

Other times, though, I’m like an old, content, fat cat.  “I’m happy where I am.  There’s no need to change,” I’ll think.  “I’m not missing out on anything.”

Lord, help me to see, clearly, when You are nudging me to move, change, adjust or fix and when You are wanting me to lay still, quietly.  In Your name I continually pray.