Coffee, Ice, and a World Thawing Out
I’m sitting at the table this morning with a mug of coffee warming my hands, looking out the back window at a yard that’s finally starting to loosen its grip on winter. The ice didn’t leave all at once. It never does. It’s backing off slowly, stubborn to the end, dripping away like it’s mad it lost the fight.
There’s still three or four inches of sleet and snow on the ground—this is day six—but the sun has found a little confidence today. The shaded spots are still thick and hard, while the sunny places have turned slick and shiny, the kind of ice that’ll put you on your backside if you get cocky. I’ve learned this week to walk slow, take small steps, and pay attention. Turns out that’s not bad advice for life either.
It’s been a week of records—record cold, record ice, record flight cancellations. Folks still without power. Pipes frozen. Trees snapping like matchsticks. American Airlines canceling flights like they’re swatting flies. Plans all over the country tossed aside like yesterday’s newspaper.
I’ve been housebound, watching the same frozen scene over and over, like it might change if I stare hard enough. When the weather locks you in, your world shrinks. You stop thinking about next month and start thinking about right now. Heat. Water. Food. Staying upright.
That’s survival mode. And survival mode has a way of changing what you think matters.
The Morning the Ice Let Go
This morning, the ice finally decided it had overstayed its welcome. A heavy sheet slid loose from the roof and came crashing down without warning. Sounded like thunder. It scared the feral cats half to death.
They bolted in every direction, claws skittering on ice, dignity nowhere to be found. One poor cat lost all traction and slid straight into the deep end of the swimming pool. For a second, my heart just stopped. That water was cold enough to make a strong man gasp.
But that cat swam like he meant it. He paddled hard, found the edge, and hauled himself out—soaked, shaking, and very much alive. He gave the universe a dirty look, shook himself dry, and disappeared.
I stood there a long minute, coffee forgotten, thinking, Well, that about sums it up. Slipping, plunging, scrambling, surviving.
And it hit me: this whole week hasn’t been about progress. It’s been about perseverance.
Old Questions, New Weather
Success and motivation have followed me around most of my life. I’ve been chewing on those questions since my university days. What makes people move forward? What keeps them going when things get hard? What does success really look like when you strip away the trophies and titles?
Those questions followed me into doctoral work more than thirty years ago. I spent over a year buried in research and writing, wrestling with motivation theories and Scripture, eventually producing a dissertation with a title long enough to scare off casual readers. Back then, success felt like finishing, publishing, achieving.
But sitting here now, watching ice melt and coffee cool, I realized something: real life tests success in different ways.
The Bible doesn’t define success the way the world does. Joshua wrote, “This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth… For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success” (Joshua 1:8, ESV).
Not flashy success. Not Instagram success. Good success.
Because the usual measures don’t hold up well in a storm. It’s not how you look. Ice doesn’t care. It’s not how much you own. Power outages level the field. It’s not who you know. Connections don’t melt roads.
Paul said it plainly: “Let each one test his own work, and then his reason to boast will be in himself alone and not in his neighbor” (Galatians 6:4, ESV).
Success isn’t comparison. It’s character.
Paul’s Kind of Success
If you want a picture of real success, you don’t have to look any further than the Apostle Paul.
Paul had a sense of direction. He wasn’t wandering through life hoping things worked out. “I make it my ambition to preach the gospel,” he wrote (Romans 15:20, ESV). And again, “I press on toward the goal” (Philippians 3:14, ESV). Direction doesn’t mean ease—it means purpose.
Paul had understanding—earned understanding. “I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound,” he said (Philippians 4:12, ESV). He didn’t just know Scripture; he lived it. He prayed for hearts to be directed “to the love of God and to the steadfastness of Christ” (2 Thessalonians 3:5, ESV).
Paul lived with commitment. “I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself,” he wrote, “if only I may finish my course” (Acts 20:24, ESV). That’s not recklessness. That’s resolve.
And he never forgot compassion. “If I have all faith… but have not love, I am nothing” (1 Corinthians 13:2–3, ESV). He urged believers to put on “compassionate hearts” (Colossians 3:12, ESV), because success without love is empty noise.
Paul walked with enthusiastic faith. “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31, ESV). “I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13, ESV). Not denial. Trust.
He lived as a servant, willing to be spent for others (2 Corinthians 12:15, ESV). And he had staying power: “Afflicted… but not crushed… struck down, but not destroyed” (2 Corinthians 4:8–9, ESV).
His secret sits in plain sight: “So we do not lose heart… For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:16–18, ESV).
When the Ice Finally Melts
I finish my coffee and look back out the window. Water is running where ice ruled a few days ago. The world is finding its footing again. Slowly. Quietly.
Maybe success looks a lot like this. Not constant motion. Not nonstop achievement. Sometimes it’s just holding on through the freeze, trusting that God is still at work beneath the ice, and knowing what matters when everything else slips.
A Few Takeaways From a Frozen Week
- Success isn’t what you accumulate—it’s who you become.
Ice storms don’t care about resumes, bank accounts, or appearances. Character endures. - Motivation changes in hard seasons—and that’s okay.
Some weeks aren’t about moving forward. They’re about staying upright and faithful. - Good success is measured by faithfulness, not flash.
The kind of success God honors holds steady through cold, darkness, and delay. - Don’t lose heart when progress feels slow.
Ice melts one drip at a time. Renewal often works the same way.
The thaw always comes. And when it does, it tells you what was solid all along.
Grace and Peace,
Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Ed.D.
