As I sit and watch the snow outside my window, my toes are cold. But my coffee is warm. I have central heating in my house and a blanket on the arm of my chair. My toes are cold, but they don’t have to be.

Down the hall, I have a warm bed which I recently abandoned. I have a drawer full of socks and fleece lined slippers. I have wool tights which work miracles on the coldest of days. My toes are cold, but if I am really honest…I am just unwilling to move to fix the problem.

My toes are cold and it is easy to blame it on the arctic air outside. I can grumpily blame it on the builder of my family room, who did not install insulation under the house. I can gloomily count the days until winter is over…if I can just hang on until something changes…maybe someday my toes will be warm again.

My toes are cold. Perhaps my husband will bring me socks, or turn up the heat, or bring me a blanket. Someone else could ease my suffering. If only he would notice.

My toes are cold and this is getting ridiculous. I realize that I am blessed. I have abundant resources to meet my need. So much, that I could outfit any number of feet against the cold. But I would rather lay and think about how cold my toes are.

It is starting to sink in. It is up to me to protect my toes. They are not in danger of frostbite yet. Not unless the heater goes out. It is a strong safety net. I must be the one. I will use the resources I have to protect my toes. For now, I will put on the warm blanket. Later I will call to my husband (he is still asleep) and ask him to bring my socks. I selected him a long time ago to help me in times of need.

It has been a long week in America. My toes aren’t the only thing feeling the cold. The political climate has left me numb….but I don’t have to be. Now that my toes are warm, perhaps I should figure out how to use my resources to promote the “general welfare”.