For the past two Sundays Jim has been preaching on how to overcome the (literal and metaphorical) Winter Blues. I was in church yesterday and was inspired suddenly to write this, because his words were so relevant. It seems I'm not the only one who has reacted with writing, judging from posts on my friends' blogs. Anyway, this is my take on Winter, as for me, it is more than a literal season right now.
Winter
Snow makes for a silent world. There is no wind to stir
these laden branches, bowed with their burdens. All is covered, muffled under
this blanket that leaves nothing untouched. I ball up snow in a gloved hand and
laugh with the rest of them, but after a while, it becomes impossible to ignore
winter’s chill. The cold creeps through my shoes, steals between my
buttonholes. I find relief in hot tea and cosy feet, but the sky is still iron.
Winter is still dead, and Spring is far away.
But I am learning, in the winter of my life, that it hurts,
but it’s going to be OK. There is no Spring without Winter. My circumstances
get noisy, clamorous; jabbering at me from all sides, and sometimes God seems
as silent as the snow. But something is happening underneath the soil, and I
know it will blossom into something beautiful, because that’s who God is, the
God who’s notice does not escape a single sparrow falling to the ground.
My God knows. Everything. And He is passionately interested
in my life. He is the Author and Finisher, and He will see me through to Spring. Every time
I lose sight of Him, He steps in, picks me up again, and reminds me that He is
so, so good. He has not forgotten me. He has not left me to harsh, cruel Winter,
and He will not send me into the cold without bundling me up in His love first.
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