I used to live on an island in the middle of the pretty, blue Exuma Sound. When you live on an island, you have to be resourceful. The running water goes out, so you collect rain water in buckets. The plumbing gets wonky and you call the plumber, promising him there are plenty of cold beers in the cooler and praying there is not a party along the way to distract him from the task at hand. Or you repair the toilet yourself. You learn to fix things. You learn to keep tasks in-house.
David used to live in The Bahamas too. Whenever there is a problem at work that requires gumption, he looks at me and says, “You are on an island.” In other words, the lord helps those who help themselves. So it was, with my hard-earned Bahamian/Midwestern initiative, that I approached my car this morning (frozen solid as a fossil in amber) with a steak knife.
I chiseled my way in and I am determined to keep my spirits up. I refuse to be one of those people from Florida who find a snowstorm in April ridiculous…The sky is blue. I am sober. I am clever enough to come up with a plan to GET INTO MY OWN CAR. Even though, for a minute, I wanted to sit in a snow bank helplessly, weep and wait for the sun to melt the ice.
Oh, and Claudio sent me a photo this morning of the sunrise over the Intra Coastal Waterway, with the tagline, “God’s welcoming for a beautiful weekend.” I refuse to be one of those people from Florida who get snippy about God’s ice-cold, sunrise in Grand Rapids (even though I’m pretty sure He’s holed up in Ponte Vedra this morning…).