In winter, I want to hibernate. I find myself turning in on myself. I find myself burrowing into my blankets and closing down. It's cold. It's dark.
This morning, nobody wants to go to church. We want to stay in bed and snuggle. We don't want to shovel the driveway, warm the car, and bundle up. "What should we do?" we mutter to one another in our winter-induced stupor.
"We should go. We should go. We should go."
By the time we arrive to the warmth of fellowship, coffee, and music, we feel everything inside of us lift and awaken. Connection with our community in the midst of this isolating weather brought so much joy and so much energy.
I have to remember to get up and go when everything in me wants to stay wrapped up in this house. Day after day inside, with the gentle snow falling and the house buttoned up, indeed starts the process of hibernation. But too much burrowing disconnects us and shrivels our joy in community.
Even in winter, living with flair means we get up and go.