It usually starts in the fingers and toes. Then blitzes the middle of the back, radiating out from there.
It’s cold. Oh baby, it’s cold. And those extremities start to go into rebellion. They just…don’t… want… to… moooove.
Do you know what I’m talking about? Throw on the socks, wrap up in the blankie, and you’re still shivering. Body parts you usually ignore are sending you a signal – Do something now! Your ears – normally quite the lady or gentleman – are getting a bit irritate with all this. Your already-cold nose starts running – for cover.
Oh baby, it’s cold.
For relief, you look outside for some sunny encouragement. What you find are swelled up birds, vapor-blowing animals, and icicles on your icicles. The ground is so frozen that even with the howling wind (was that a chill that just ran up your back?), nothing moves.
And then, there are the joints. Oh my, the joints. Hip – snap. Knees – crackle. Ankles – pop. As you trudge along outside, you’re a walking bowl of cereal, only this one hurts.
And the eyes! How easily and readily they water to protect themselves from the raw, frigid air – air it seems you could cut with a knife, if only you could move your arms to make it happen.
Oh baby, it’s cold.
There’s a place on the back of your neck – just at the hairline – that refuses to be comforted. Scarves or coats are well-intentioned, but just don’t get it done. You can feel that, can’t you?
Would you believe that some people build houses out of ice – to keep them from freezing to death? Now that’s cold. So cold that to inhale deeply without some sort of protection would literally scar your throat. So cold that people can actually lose fingers or toes and not feel them right away.
And nothing commands silence like the cold. Ever notice how – like now maybe – you instinctively open and close your jaw and mouth just to make sure it can still operate? And when you do try to talk, the ch-ch-chills m-m-make it s-s-so hard to g-g-g-get the words out right. Your lips feel like popcicles in pain.
Oh baby, it’s cold.
So, just out of curiosity, what’s your chilliest member right now? Your toes? Your right foot? Ears? Neck? Shoulders? Left knee? Back? (Was that another chill that raced up your spine?) Are your eyes watering? Is your breath shortened, even though you’re probably reading this in a heated room?
How about your heart?
Ever hear someone describe a cold-hearted person?
Unfeeling… unbending… unyielding… uncaring.
Eyes that cut through you like an arctic wind. A tongue that bites as cruelly as the worst ice storm. A jaw frozen into the shape of an angry corpse.
The cold heart has a memory that never forgets the slightest offense, and never forgives the humblest offender. One that dismisses the “good times” and “good old days” as never having happened.
Without a shred of compassion, a cold heart stares blankly at the suffering of others – or worse, finds pleasure or entertainment in it.
Sometimes depressed, the frozen rage of the cold heart lives in a world that is hopeless to change and is unmoved by cheery platitudes that everything is going to get better.
The cold heart lives on this side of a vow that no one or nothing will ever cause it pain again. It expertly raises the hopes and desires of others – even children – only to crush them again and again with no sign of remorse.
(Does this remind you of anyone?)
The cold heart is motionless. Immovable in the worst sort of way. Stubbornly dug in, or violently opposed – to you, to the world around them, even to God.
And that…
That…
…is how the Lord Jesus would prefer your heart to be…
…compared to one that is comfortably lukewarm.
I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either cold or hot! So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I am going to vomit you out of my mouth! (Revelation 3:15-16, NET).