he stands in the cold, the wind whipping and blowing against his back. he huddles over, trying to protect himself from the gusts. he inhales deeply and closes his eyes as he exhales. the snow swirls all around. the cold is creeping in through his coat and his scarf as he stands outside, shivering. the smoke rises from the stick between his fingers as he raises his trembling hand to his mouth, breathing again of its poisonous relief.
would i go this far for Jesus?