In the Winter

A woman much older and wiser than me once said, “It’s alright to say you don’t like something. Look at it and say you don’t like it. Then give it up.”

Sometimes it isn’t what you make it. Sometimes it is what it is.

And sometimes what it is, is not what you would prefer. Not only is it not what you would prefer, but it sucks and you don’t like it. Sometimes it is painful and uncomfortable, confusing and difficult. Sometimes winter comes in the form of something other that the seasonal weather outside in January. Looking outside in to the frigid, gray (it has been sunless in Kentucky for days) sky resembles what you feel inside your soul. Trying to remember or convince yourself that spring will come inside your heart, when things grow abundant and the sun warms you is easier said than done.

Remembering that this season of your life is not permanent is much like what I just mentioned. Spring and summer seem to be distant illusions. You make a decision that you think is the right one, only to seriously question it later. Someone else makes a decision that affects your life and you have no control over the immediate outcome, which hurts. You end up looking something in the face that you never dreamed you would have to look at again. You taste defeat and pick yourself up again, only to be smacked back down at your next attempt. You still try.

You visit and people do not make time to see you. You realize that people do not visit, even when they are adamant about it to your face. Your friends start dating, get married, have a child and stop calling, then they stop emailing. And you want to believe that each one will be different, but it rarely is. You go to another shower for someone who you doubt would return the favor for you if you were getting married. Then you decide want a refund for every bridesmaid dress you ever agreed to buy… all eight. Then you realize that you don’t call people back sometimes… and you forget to email people back and you feel bad. But you quit trying. And you quit initiating because you are tired of being rejected. Then you remember that you have rejected people and what it might feel like to them. You realize that there are far fewer people than you thought who are willing to walk with you through the darkness, because its ugly. But there are a few willing to put up with you when you don’t want to fake a smile.

You realize that much of what you do for others is overlooked, but you still do it. You do what you have to in the moment even though it hits an agitating nerve and makes you more inpatient with people than you want to be. You then realize that you have been treated unequally and you become angry, even when you try not to be.

You catch yourself glancing at a guy who you know would be fun to date but you know you would be “settling” and you seriously think about dating him anyway. You watch a friendship slip away and then die in front of you while having coffee. Then you mourn the loss of that friendship because you shared part of life with that person, and you miss them. They know you. And for the sake of your heart, you wish not so deeply. You cry after you watch that friend drive away, knowing that something has changed and will not return. You look up and feel a little angry because you are too human to understand a divine plan.

Then you get sick over Christmas… and you spend it alone with a temperature of 102. There is no more wind in your sails. And you cry. And say there is no hope left. And you want to give up. Then you decide to give up.

Then somethings shifts.

The winter is barren and freezing in an oddly beautiful way. Hope is found in the moments when, with every beat of my heart, hope seems to have faded away. It is sometimes found in “giving up.” The silent cry that escapes from the weak beats that whimper, “I’m just going to give up,” is the same cry that says, “I need You.” As a follower of Christ, the problem with giving up is the gentle but firm, whispering response that says, “Your heart is not your own. ‘Give up’ fighting Me. Settling has not ever been an option for you, and it still isn’t now. I see that you are tired. But I AM still here with you in the winter.”

Sometimes He shatters our dreams for His own. He shatters our dreams and sometimes our human brains and hearts can’t understand why or we are too small to see His bigger plan. We want to see through the snow, but don’t have the ability. We shut our eyes tight and we know spring will come….

But right now… it is winter. “And I don’t like it.”  🙂