The sun has just set behind the mountains. It’s going to be another cold one tonight. These days, we often wake up to hoar frost outside and wish we could cuddle under the covers for another couple hours until the bedroom grows a little warmer.
Now is the time of year when sunsets are dusty pinks—not a huge amount of color, but beautiful all the same. It’s the time of year when few birds flit around, but the ones that are still here are precious and welcome. They carry the promise that winter will not always be here—that just as cold has slowly settled onto the land, warmth will follow with a riot of color and mud come spring. This is the time when multiple hot drinks are the norm on chilly days, and soft, fuzzy blankets are a must. When reading in a cozy spot is an absolute delight. When candles burn brighter, and we let them go longer, because their soft, hazy glow is such a delight on chilly evenings.
As much as I used to hate winter, I’m learning to embrace it. Yes, it’s cold in the mornings—but when the sun breaks into the world, you feel like cheering. There’s a beautiful view of the mountains from the kitchen where I work, and I’ve grown to really appreciate seeing the sunrise reflecting in oranges and pinks on their peaks first, then fuller in paler yellows as the sun gets higher, before it finally touches the high board fence around the garden and the green fern trees within it and voila! another day has begun.
Winter has put me into a meditative mood.
I wonder about why it’s so hard for me sometimes to be thankful, to see the blessings around me, when it used to come naturally like a needle in a seamstress’s hand.
I wonder why I don’t blog very much, even though I still enjoy the idea and used to love sharing my musings on my own online platform.
I wonder why my sourdough bread is turning out with consistent results, and my yeast bread isn’t—with the same recipe, week after week.
I wonder what the gardens of our souls will be like in another ten or fifteen years. Are there things I’m not watering and feeding that I should be? Or things that I’m over-emphasizing right now?
I wonder what simple, childlike faith really looks like. When encrusted with do’s and don’ts and preoccupations and misconceptions, life can get muddly (is that a word? probably not…I’ll go with it anyway).
I wonder at the beauty and simplicity I see in bare tree branches with little buds prepared, just waiting for the whisper of warmth to breathe through their twigs and announce “life has come!”
And I wonder…when that same Voice whispers in my heart, do I listen?
So while I continue catching glimpses of sunrises and sunsets, and birds talking in the trees outside, I will wonder. I will live each day with hope of being able to serve my Savior more. I will keep seeking for beauty, reaching for stars. And maybe—in the looking, wondering, and trusting—I will find that though I may wish for parts of my life to be different, the life I’ve been given is already more enough. Even in winter.
Like Spurgeon so ably put it,
“Beloved, it is not the office, it is earnestness; it is not position, it is grace which will enable us to glorify God. […] [B]e not discontented with your calling. Whatever God has made your position, or your work, abide in that, unless you are quite sure that he calls you to something else. […] Fill your present sphere to his praise, and if He needs you in another He will show it you.” (From Morning & Evening by Charles Spurgeon, June 27 evening reading)
Let’s discuss: What are you pondering right now? What are you appreciating about your season right now?
Kate Willis has been homeschooled her whole life in a loving family that values the Gospel of Jesus Christ, creativity, and thoughtful conversations. She is inspired by red shoes, a good story, little children, and chai tea. It is her desire to serve God in the home having a family of her own in the future. She is the author of The Treasure Hunt, The Twin Arrows, Kiera, and two short stories Enjoy the Poodle Skirt and Red Boots.
