In the Late Night Hours...

...I'm more grateful than usual for the shelter of these red-brick walls and the warmth enclosed within them.

I glance at the thermometer.  14 degrees.

"A person could die outside on a night like this," I think.  Then I correct myself, "Of course a person could die, but could a person live?"

We pray for the homeless, that they have found warm shelter.

We put more wood on the fire and hear the lonely sound of the wind howling down the chimney.  Oh, this wind! It cuts like a knife when we venture outside and gives new meaning to the term "bitter cold."

I walk quietly into the boys' rooms to check on them, to pull covers up under chins, to kiss exposed cheeks, to breathe a prayer for these little ones who are so unspeakably precious to me.  In a little while, I, too, will crawl under my covers and pull them up to my chin.  I will be reminded of how I used to dread getting into a cold bed on nights like these, and how all that changed with the purchase of our cherished electric blanket.  I will give thanks again for such luxury; and although I have no one to tuck me in, I will feel God's smile warm me and His soft kiss on my cheek.

Tonight, when harsh weather conditions outside feel like a threat, my gratitude for all that is good and lovely in my life wells up and finds a single, focused expression.  In these late night hours, I thank God that...

...I am warm.