"The storm wind comes from its chamber, and the driving winds bring the cold. God's breath sends the ice, freezing wide expanse of water. He loads the clouds with moisture, and they flash with His lightening. The clouds churn about at His direction. They do whatever He commands throughout the earth. He makes these things happen either to punish people or to show His unfailing love." (Job 37:9-13 NLT)
We all experience winter. And winter comes in lots of ways. Sometimes it’s snow and ice. Sometimes it’s pain and sorrow. Sometimes it’s isolation and uncertainty.
“Some winters last a whole year.”
Rita DuBose
Our speaker said it quiet, a little defeated, acknowledging the stark, cold absence of felt blessing that sometimes settles over a believers life. I leaned over and whispered in my friend’s ear – “Only a year?” Her knowing smile in response squeezed my heart. She knew I had already calculated it – decade of winter has left me feeling bleak about the future, wondering if seasons ever change.
It’s tempting to shut up our heart in a moment like that, when we determine our personal suffering eclipses the stated experience of the speaker. But shutting down includes shutting out, and when we shut down, we may miss just the next spiritual nugget we require. Thankfully, I stayed engaged.
“Roots grow deep in winter.”
Rita DuBose
The snow and ice may clear the surface of all notable growth, but far beneath wild roots furiously forage. They dig deep into the dark soil, scavenging for sustenance, oblivious to the cold above the soil line. Rita encouraged us winter-people to push past our current depth, to plunge deeper into God’s purposes and cling to Him with perseverence. She implored: we will eventually arrive in spring with a far stronger root system.
And just like that, the ice began to crack. My heart heard it loud and clear.
There’s a day at the end of winter in Iowa. The temperature isn’t noticeably different. It’s still crazy cold but the sun makes an appearance and if you listen closely, you can hear the ice crack. It begins on branches; the dark bark absorbs the rays of light and the ice loses its grip. The trees weep collectively; great heavy tears of ice water and you know in your soul that something has shifted. In a day or more, your ears are delighted by the sound of dripping; the run-off from the roof and gutters has begun. The robins follow shortly thereafter; their red bellies bright against the slow-receding snow. Spring is coming and it can’t be stopped. There may be another snowfall or two, but winter has lost the war and its season is limited in nature.
It feels brave to say it, even braver to put it out here in black and white print. I am saying it in faith. A decade of winter can’t keep its grip forever and Saturday I heard the ice crack. Spring is coming and I’m certain the roots I’ve developed in the dark years will sustain my soul for the season ahead.
"You set the boundaries of the earth, and you made both summer and winter." (Psalm 74:16 NLT)
Lord, we are glad that You are over the seasons. We would never elect for winter on our own; what roots we would lack without Your leadership! Again and again, we proclaim our trust in You and Your timing. Give us the tenacity to seek You in season and out. Let our roots grow strong in all weather. Amen.