Tag: winter

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

He’s the God of cold, too

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Annie Nyle on Unsplash

A “through the bible” devotion from Psalm 147.

When I think of God’s creation, especially the Garden of Eden, I imagine of a sunny day, with spring-like temperatures, and a gentle breeze. After all, the first man and woman were naked, so it would have been a nice, warm, comfortable place.

It turns out that the Creator is the God of cold, too.

He gives snow like wool;
    he scatters frost like ashes.
He hurls down his crystals of ice like crumbs;
    who can stand before his cold?
He sends out his word, and melts them;
    he makes his wind blow and the waters flow. (Psalm 147:16-18)

I love these unlikely pairings. Snow covers the ground like a warm blanket. Frost blows through the air like ashes from a fire, settling on tree limbs and rooftops. Ice crystals resemble cookie crumbs falling after a bite. God’s word, which created the wintry weather also melts it. He thaws out a frozen world.

At times, God is a consuming fire. When his people disobey, his anger burns. God sends down fire to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah and to consume Elijah’s sacrifice on Mt. Carmel. God leads his people through the wilderness as a pillar of fire. Spirit comes down on the apostles like tongues of fire on Pentecost. When John sees Jesus in Revelation, “His eyes were like a flame of fire” (Rev. 1:14). In heaven, God is surrounded by seraphim, fiery creatures who never stop repeating, “Holy, holy, holy!”

I think it’s cool that he’s the God of cold, too!

Posted in garden, Life

Winter tomatoes

Posted on by William Douthwaite

After trying several varieties, I’ve had the most success growing cherry tomatoes in my raised gardens. Five vines filled the chicken wire cages I built to keep the squirrels out and produced dozens of cherry tomatoes.

Since those gardens were on the side of the house, they received enough shade to survive a Florida summer. I was still harvesting tomatoes well into October from a March planting. I was going to buy and plant new ones in the fall for the second growing season. Instead, I cut off some of the fullest branches, stripped leaves from the bottom half, and replanted them in the soil. They took root and grew beyond the confines of the cage itself. In mid-December, the vines were covered with small green tomatoes. On January 1, I harvested a nice crop for our first salads of the new year.

Unless we happen to get a freeze, I’m looking forward to many more.

I’m thrilled with my winter tomatoes for several reasons. First, it’s hard to find good tomatoes any time of the year in Florida. The ones in the store are some kind of coral color without much taste. These were red, ripe, and delicious,

Second, I didn’t have to buy these plants. I was able to start new vines from cuttings. So they were free. Kind of.

Third, picking tomatoes in January is like thumbing your nose at winter. I know, we don’t really get winter in Florida. But when the temps drop into the thirties, unpleasant memories of bitterly cold winters resurface. All I have to do is pop a tomato in my mouth, and all that goes away.

Posted in memories

Is it warm in here?

Posted on by William Douthwaite

What feels better than nice warm air blowing up through your chilly toes on an ice-cold winter morning? Not much, which is why we liked camping out on the heater vent in the living room of the house where I grew up.

This vent was located right over the natural gas furnace in the basement, which meant it produced the best blast of heated air in the entire house. The kid bedrooms were all on the chilly second floor, where warm air should have risen, but never quite make it. So when we heard the furnace come on, we gathered around the floor vent behind my mom’s recliner. It was barely big enough to accommodate six little feet, so dueling toes was the name of the game.

The vent had the added feature that you could see the TV from there, too. I wish we had a photo of my brother and sister and I sitting over that wonderful flow of air.

I remember my mom talking about the time she caught either my brother or sister sitting on the vent eating ice cream from a carton. Best of both worlds, right?