For a girl who grew up in Iowa, I am embarrassingly cold right now. I, of all people, should be able to withstand temps in the teens and twenties. But instead I have a blanket wrapped around the top half of me and a blank on my lap, sweats on, and my microwaveable booties on my feet. I must be getting old.
Actually, my crew has enjoyed the “Polar Vortex” the past two days. This is mainly due to using a baseball bat to shatter the ice covered puddles that are on our property and the church property next door. Yesterday they were all about bringing me chunks of ice to look at (like I’d never seen ice before). But, I will admit that I took a couple of swings with the bat as well. There is something satisfying about swinging a bat hard and seeing ice shatter. Good fun.
Yes, it’s been cold throughout the country. Much colder elsewhere (like up north and Midwest) than here. I’m so thankful for a safe and warm house to raise my crew in.
Watching the ice shatter yesterday reminded me of an illustration that C.S. Lewis used in his book “Surprised by Joy”. It went like this:
I felt as if I were a man of snow at long last beginning to melt. The melting was starting in my back — drip-drip and presently trickle-trickle. I rather disliked the feeling.
Here Lewis is talking about the beginning of his transformation or conversion to Christianity. Some might think that this is a strange metaphor to use when talking about becoming a believer, but I think it very accurately sums it up, at least for me. For most of my life, I was a snowman (snowgirl?). I was cold, my soul was frozen. There was no feeling. There was no belief. There was hard cynicism. Sure, I’d have moments where I could show compassion to someone in need. But in reality, I basically felt nothing, except icy cold indifference.
But then God began to pursue me, just as He pursued C.S. Lewis. It wasn’t a quick decision. It was a long process of thinking. Reading. Studying. Talking. Feeling for the first time. And I, like Lewis, didn’t much like the drip drip drip or trickle trickle down my back. I rather disliked it.
And I didn’t know what to do with God’s pursuit of me. And I really didn’t know what to do with what I was feeling–the slow melting away of my snowgirl exterior. I have to admit that I still don’t know what to do with much of what I learn, read, or feel about God. I stumble and bumble through this continually developing relationship with God, making many mistakes along the way.
But it’s my soul, the seat of who I am, that is most changed. The seat of who I am. For you see, God replaced my heart. He performed surgery on my heart. It hurt, yes. It was very painful. But it was necessary, because Ezekiel 36:26 says:
You see, I needed a new heart. I needed a new spirit. God knew this, and replaced my cold snowgirl heart with a real heart of flesh. One that beats with curiosity and inquisitiveness about God and Scriptures. One that actually feels joy and pain. One that has learned to love her crew immensely. Yes, the surgery was hard, and is still difficult some days, but God, the great physician, knew what I needed and performed it. A heart transplant.
So, how about you? Are you a snowman, or has God begun to work on your life, melting that exterior of frozen snow in your own personal polar vortex? Have you allowed God to perform heart surgery on you–replacing your cold stone heart with one that beats and feels?
Give it some serious thought.
If you have any questions, I’d love to try to answer them, or try to find the answer to them. You can always email me at firstname.lastname@example.org or message me here. I’d love to hear from you.