For 30 years, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and I have lived here in Florida, enjoying the beautiful weather. The other morning, I got up, got my coffee, and sat down to begin the day.

No sooner had I sat down than I felt cold and began to shiver, as I hadn't shivered in a long time. The temperature was below my appreciation. I don’t like it when it is cold. The only cold I like is in my iced tea and ice cream.

About that time, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage came into the room and said, “What happened to Global Warming?”

I was thinking the same thing at the time. We have heard about Global Warming for all this time, and now, all over the country, it is freezing, and snow is at an all-time high. If this is Global Warming, I need to see a psychiatrist.

Really, I do not understand what this Global Warming is all about. I hear it through the media, but I've reached a point where I question it. They will report one thing one day, and by the next day, it will be completely the opposite.

Handling cold weather is something I’m not very good at. I grew up in Pennsylvania, where we had lots of snow and cold weather. I loved it back then, but I was younger and could handle cold much better than I can today.

One result of getting older is that you can’t handle cold. That’s why people move to Florida. At least that is why we moved to Florida to get away from all that cold weather and snow.

A relative of mine who still lives up north asked me if I missed the cold, wintry, snowy weather. I told them, “Yes, I do miss all of that cold weather, and I plan to miss it the rest of my life.”

In getting older, I have noticed that handling cold weather becomes more challenging. I heard it said here in Florida that when the temperature drops below your age, it is cold. When I first heard that, I chuckled, but I’m beginning to think it’s somewhere close to being true.

Where people get the idea of a change in the weather is beyond me. This year, I’ll turn 75, and as I look back through those years, there has been constant climate change. Spring leads into summer and summer into fall and fall into winter. That hasn’t changed.

What has changed is my ability to handle cold weather. Once, I could handle 32°, but now I struggle with 50°. It can never be too hot for me, but it sure can be too cold.

As The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and I were sitting together, we had a shivering contest. I think she thought she could outshiver me, but I won that one. I can shiver like nobody you’ve ever seen. My shivering is to tell the cold to go north, where it belongs.

It puzzles me why these scientific organizations spend all their money and time on figuring out how old the Earth is, and that the climate is changing. Don’t they have something better to spend their time and money on?

As we were shivering together, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and I reflected on our times up north, where we experienced all the cold and snow. She grew up in New York, where there was much more snow than in Pennsylvania.

One thing I have learned about running away from the cold is that it is healthier for me to stay warm than to get cold. I love to be warm. But I don’t love shivering in the cold as though I have nothing else to do.

Maybe one of these days I’ll become accustomed to the cold here in Florida. But until that time, I’m not a very happy camper with all of this cold.

I want to sue the weather broadcasters because I think it’s their responsibility for all of this cold weather that I’m experiencing. Why can’t they get on their media platform and say, “It’s going to be a perfect day to day, enjoy it.” But no, they have to say it’s going to be colder today than yesterday.

Why can’t all these weather broadcasters across the country get together and plan perfect weather every day? No more cold, or snow, or rain, but everything would be absolutely perfect. I could handle that.

Of course, I know that if the weather were perfect every day, all of those people would lose their job. However, I’m willing to take the chance.

I’m old enough to know nothing is perfect, except The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. Besides her, nothing in this world is perfect.

If everything in the world were perfect, what would I have to complain about?

As I shivered in my chair over a cup of hot coffee, I was reminded of a verse in the Bible.

“And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God” (Romans 12:2).

Nothing in this world is perfect. My hope rests in the transforming power of God, grounded in God's perfect will.