It started a decade or so ago. Since then, I’ve worn socks to bed almost every single night, even on the warmest of summer eve’s.
I chalk this up as an early sign of aging. My hands don’t get cold, the same for my nose, but I just can’t seem to fall asleep anymore without socks on.
As I think about my predicament, I recall ancient story.
When King David was very old, he could not keep warm even when they put covers over him. So his attendants said to him, “Let us look for a young virgin to serve the king and take care of him. She can lie beside him so that our lord the king may keep warm.”
Then they searched throughout Israel for a beautiful young woman and found Abishag, a Shunammite, and brought her to the king. The woman was very beautiful; she took care of the king and waited on him, but the king had no sexual relations with her.
Like David of old, I have a younger woman around to keep me warm at night. I tease my bride about this as we pillow talk. “You’re my Abishag,” I say, or words to that affect.
Abishag—it’s become a term of endearment between us.
I haven’t needed Abishag’s help so far this winter. On Christmas, we had a high of 54, breaking the previous record which dated back to 1922.
Abishag—don’t go too far. The cold is sure to arrive.
I didn’t expect the twist to David and his warming servant. That’s a passage I’ve not preached on, yet. Https:fromarockyhillside.com
Good story. And true. Similar problem here. Maybe due to poorer circulation or lack of a young virgin.