My youngest daughter has discovered the joy of taking a thermos of soup to school for lunch. We heat up chicken soup or noodles in the morning, put them in her soup thermos, and send her on her way with a spoon and a napkin.
It’s amazing that four hours later, she opens the thermos lid to a steaming soup, perfect for a snowy Pennsylvania school day. Each afternoon, I ask, “Was it steaming hot?”
“Yes! It was so hot! I can’t believe it! It was great soup!”
What’s amazing to her is that an ice cold beverage would stay ice cold in the very same container. What strange phenomenon is this?
We learn all about heat transfer and the wonders of science that explain her new thermos. The hot stays where it should; the cold stays where it should. Nothing transfers.
I love the concept of insulation that keeps things in place like this. I don’t want to lose the warmth of my own soul’s connection to God, so I wrap up in layers of God’s word, His people, worship, and prayer. I don’t want to lose one little bit. The cold has no access; we’re sealed all the way around.