Winter isn’t for wimps. It’s prime time for hibernation.
It’s weighty heaviness can steal joy right out of weary hearts.
Fog-leaden and snow-laden lands lead to low moods for many.
Misted breath and frosty fingers steal in, seep through the window pane and wrap themselves around my brain.
I succumb to the numbing, become muffled and mournful.
Such tenacious chill of mind and will could take some shifting. Just like my duvet, I sink into its sonorous depths.
Even creativity is being capricious, wearing a sly smile as she slides away evasive.
Poetry usually flows like a babbling brook before singing itself onto the page.
But now? It lies turgid, a murky pond of indifference where I dredge hopeful for silver in the silt.
Words have become as weeds clinging to the reeds, refusing to rise obligingly to the surface.
Here we are:caught between Narnia and Nativity, aching for Light to come.
Can it really be winter all the time and never Christmas? Surely not. Our souls crave celebration.
And won’t Light and Joy seep their way through the grey-gloom, soften cold hearts, draw back the dark?
Oh yes, they will.
We may be overshadowed by our circumstances but we’re covered by grace, nevertheless.
Because the One who came into Mary’s womb is the same One who comes into our deep and silent places.
She pondered how that could happen, much as we wonder when.. this pain will ease, this burden will be lifted, this sickness will leave, this problem will be shifted.
I read:“‘How will this be,’ Mary asks the Angel, ‘Since I am a virgin?’ The Angel answered, ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you'” ~ Luke 1:34-35
And these words hover in my head, shape themselves into a poem:
Heavy cloak of holiness
wrapped with softness
Burning light of purity
lies sealed within
fulfilled in Him
swims in the womb
Stretching over time
to give Him room
Waiting for the right moment
in which He’ll come
Angelic hosts sing
a welcome song
Mantle of mercy and grace
drapes lightly on
all who receive and embrace”
As words flow once more so does insight, inspiration and gratitude.
For we also are overshadowed; we have Holy Spirit, The Comforter Himself, wrapping arms of Love around us all the time.
We have His continual, Light-filled presence, His fire, His infilling.
As gentle dove, He speaks soothing balm to winter-weary hearts and whispers, ‘Soon’
“Soon, My child, your waiting will be over.
Soon, those inner longings will be met.
Sooner than you know I will reveal His Light in your darkness, His Peace in your perplexity.
Hold on for a little bit longer.
Keep the flame burning in your heart; keep Hope alive.
A faltering wick He will not quench or snuff out.
Hide yourself in the shelter of the Father’s wings for He is your refuge and shelter against every storm.
Allow Me to pour the oil of Joy on your troubled soul.
At just the right time the Christ-child will be birthed anew in hearts ready to receive Him.
New life will spring from the old.”
And as we listen to His voice, as we breathe the Peace of His Presence, as we respond to what we are hearing we are slowly filled with life again.
Chilled hearts thaw. Minds become enlightened, grasping Truth.
Our world becomes brighter with expectation. Hope of renewal and change.
Jesus is coming. God is with us. Emmanuel is here.
We can breathe easy. Our dark winter of discontent is coming to an end.
I’m joining here with Janis and other like-minded friends for #sundaystillness as we press pause in the midst of the busyness.