Been thinking
a lot lately about Winter. What is its'
purpose, why the cold, how's it work, and what is God teaching me through this continual thought pattern. We've all heard the sayings, "winter of the soul", or "dead as winter". I keep wondering how it is we believe winter to be dead or
at least a time of no productivity. A drying up of ones soul is what I've really been thinking. I suppose many would say that we have been in a season of winter for a while now, but as I began praying about this concept God began to show me more and more how He had been unfolding Spring all along.
I guess I should say that winter is one of my favorite times of the year,
at least when there's snow on the ground and I am out playing in it. I remember living in Logan and going crazy because of the inversions, or in
Suly and not having power while huddling around our stinky propane heater, yet some of my favorite memories are of winter. Skiing with some really fantastic friends, laying in the snow making snow angels in our backyard in Billings, sledding as kids, a nippy nose but toasty toes, the warmth of a home after the frigid wind outside, falling asleep next to a
wood stove, cuddling on cold winter nights, and of course the '
ice cube bum affect"! :)
Still I have memories of cabin fever, thinking I am going to kill these kids before its Spring, wondering if it was ever going to be green again, wanting to feel the warm rays of sunshine on my face, needing to go swimming, and just the freshness of new life around us when Spring arrives.
Now living in
Ak for all of a week and a couple days, I am wondering why this
winter wonderland? Why now? Wes and I still grieve our friends, family really, in Kurdistan. We grieve known service for Christ, we grieve an obvious purpose to our lives, a challenge, a certainty that we were DOING something for the Kingdom. With all this grief in our souls, why then Alaska? Why not have us go back, or at the very least something that gives us a feeling of helping those that are still serving over there?
Answers sometimes I've found, are not for us to know, in fact it is our blessing that we don't know, for through our struggle to have faith, without answers, we prove ourselves to be steadfast in the Lord. Steadfast, rooted, staked if you will. There's many times over this journey that I have wondered if I had the kind of faith needed for this or if I would in the end walk away, proving what I've believed all along, I don't really belong 'here'. 'Here' being the saving grace of God, the circle of the redeemed, the waterfall of Jesus' love and mercy. Yet here I am, still, even after all that has happened this last 2 years.
Winter is the perfect metaphor really, and I can't believe I hadn't noticed before, but our life, my life, these last months/year has been a winter. Outwardly I struggled to produce, I struggled to believe, I struggled to do anything but be still. Yet the whole time, underneath my doubts, my fears, my self-
absorption there was new life being reborn. God is showing me more and more as I pray through this metaphor, that I am or rather have been receiving all that I needed to get through this, not only through it but with life on the other side. A testimony of God's love and redemption in my life, a testimony of a Winter of the soul turned to the new life of Spring.
I am so thankful Jesus sat with me on the rooftop of our home in
Suly, comforting me, preparing me for what was coming. Between that time with Christ and Psalm 73 I have indeed been brewing under the surface, and now the blossoms of a regenerated heart are becoming more and more visible as Winter gives way to Spring.
Do I grieve still? Yes. Do I struggle with the migraines? Obviously. Do I wonder what God is doing? Of course as you can see at the beginning of this post, I am struggling with the struggles. Surrender is never easy, softening the heart so that new growth can happen is almost always toiling in its effort, yet I can't help but see more and more the efforts are like a garden well tended in the fall, it may lay dormant in winter, but come spring it explodes into a vision of color, texture and praise. I suppose its in that very moment that we realize Winter has its purpose after all.
I remember our kitchen in Suly, I remember walking around in there in the morning or evening, when the sunlight is soft and the weather more comfortable, I remember trailing my hands on the tiles on the wall thinking, I love this room. Maybe it was the novelty of having picked it all out myself, or just the feeling of comfort that came with that kitchen, but either way I would just walk around in there taking deep breaths of contentment. There were some days that I would really struggle with living there, I mean REALLY struggle, as in thinking 'How can I buy a ticket on the next flight out of here!', but I would walk into that kitchen (most of those times) and be able to take a deep breath and pray through my discontentment. I miss that room most of all, well the roof might be a close second. It's funny because I can remember everything about that kitchen, where my tea glasses were, how the counter top was arranged, the feel of it beneath my hands, the smells, the sound of the water filter/cooler, the feel of the tile beneath my feet, even the spots that had grout stuck on them from when they put the tile in the house, how the exhaust fan over the sink wasn't really finished off since we had a sponge shoved into the openings surrounding it! I remember it so clearly, I loved that room. It was full of light and warmth, or coolness in the hot of day, the stove was always an adventure. I can't tell you how many times I would try to light the oven, only to end in tears and cursing the dumb thing! I mean who designs an oven to not light on its own, and then complicates it by hiding the dumb heating element!! Funny, but I even loved that stove. 
