Wet and cold are two relative terms. For clouds or cereal wet and cold is expected and normal, but as words describing my emotions it is not so. I love happiness as much as anyone. But I seem to be trapped in a valley with a thick fog moving in.
Wet and cold. Soggy socks after a pleasant romp through the snow are easily dispensed. Following a romp they are an ignored inconvenience. Soggy socks in the middle of an extended journey on foot are more than a burden. They are potentially a trip ending problem.
On my trip I am faced with wet and cold. A rubric cube is dry and click-y. It is a problem. I can’t solve wet and cold either.
I don’t want anyone to be discouraged. The Lord will solve it.
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