Celebrate a Cold Shower

by Michele Husfelt - October 6

I was on my way to speak at a retreat. Friends were riding with me, and I was trying to be mindful of the time. Looking forward to a warm—no, hot—shower, I peeled off my jams, threw my towel into our towel warmer, turned on the bathroom heater, adjusted the faucet, and waited for the room to gloriously fill with steam. I waited. And waited. But the water was only lukewarm, and you know what Jesus says about being lukewarm.

Instead of watching the steam rise, I was keenly aware of the anger building within me. My first instinct was to mutter a few choice words about the injustice I was experiencing. Yes, I love Jesus, but sometimes I let a curse slip. Ask my grown children. When they first heard me, their initial shock turned to encouragement as they recognized the imperfect mom I've always been but often wished to hide from the world.

I threw on my robe and marched downstairs to interrupt my husband’s quiet time, inquiring about the lack of hot water. All the while, that unsettling feeling of entitlement continued to swell within my soul. “A hot shower is not a luxury,” I told myself. My husband quickly came to my aid and offered to bring hot water from the pot in the kitchen to at least wash my hair.

As he hurried down the stairs, the Spirit reminded me of my daughter, who had just returned from a three-week survey trip to Africa. She and her husband and children were planning to move there soon, and a great day for them would be having enough water, at any temperature, for one of them to take a shower.

I took a breath and refocused on gratitude for having water at all. I called down to my hubby not to bring the hot water up, and I proceeded to wash my hair and even sponge off with cold water. I reflected on all the things I’m grateful for in these moments.

Thank you, God, for shampoo and conditioner; a towel warmer (truly a luxury!); a warm towel; lotion; a comb; a bathrobe; and clean clothes. The list continued as I made my way to the bedroom to get dressed.

As I slipped on my pink tennis shoes from a closet bursting with various options, I noticed a large dog footprint in the center of my shoe. I was reminded of the weekend before when we visited friends whose ultra-friendly dog tromped through the mud to greet me. Rather than feeling annoyed, I was filled with joy from fond memories and a grateful heart for a generous friend who shares her farm, food, family, and dog with us. I packed my bags for the weekend, thanking God for all He has given me, especially for a cold shower.

(An excerpt from the book Always a Reason to Celebrate.)