Winters that Linger.

It seems this season has been here too long already. And what I desire fervently is to remain a vision of spring in the coldest winter. Never to share in its bitterness; never to become numb. I’m often vague in my struggles, for many reasons, and yet there is a glory in them. A glory in acknowledging the fierce love of God that can hold me, sustain me, in a season which has been long and painful.

Most of you who read this may know me a lot, or at least a little. But as these words pour out, are almost dragged from my heart, I write to those of you too in winter. I write to those of you with scarves wrapped tightly about your faces, hands pressed deeply into pockets as you brace yourself into the wind, as you stamp cold feet through piles of deep snow; those of you pressing in to the warmth of God’s fireside, and especially to those with small children at your side as you brave the storm. I’m writing as a sister, as a friend, as one who offers a hand, without answers, but a hand to warm yours along the journey. 

“I know now, Lord, why you utter no answer. You are yourself the answer. Before your face questions die away. What other answer would suffice?” ― C.S. Lewis

A friend recently shared with me, she was glad for Valentines. She was glad for the holiday because it would be good for me, a girl who loves to celebrate— to put out the special heart shaped plates and cover the walls with touches of color, and beauty, and notes of love. She was looking for me. I’ve been fading. For weeks now, I’ve had no words. But there have always been His. I do not think I’m alone in struggling to feel, or to dream. Sometimes beauty hurts more, because it draws out the barren land edging in at my heart.

While I still feel winter blowing in at the cracks beneath my door, I can yet cling to the warmth of His arms around me. And if I’m perfectly honest, when I look around at the blowing snow, it doesn’t feel enough. Yet it is; it absolutely is. It just isn’t all I want. And there is the misstep. I will always long for more because I was created for more. But feeling anything less than satisfied when at His side begs me to step closer into His shelter, not merely look to it.

Hope. Hope is jeopardous. It has stung my heart too often. Because I’ve let it. Hope always hurts when it’s in anything other than Him. That is my greatest struggle now. This cycle of hoping and hurting has wounded me to the point of disfigure. Yet, I hear Him, and I know that He yearns for my whole heart, my whole hope, my whole trust. And I know that He is the only One who will never betray that hope. When I can learn to only hope in Him, than His warmth will truly penetrate me. I will bask in His light, flourish.

He can tend the garden of my heart, breathe life, and joy, rest and beauty. This I long for. This I can long for because He will satisfy this longing. He will create beauty in me, beauty I yearn for in this life— because He is love and beauty.

And this breath of spring my soul longs for will deepen roots, strengthen me for children who have been entrusted to my warmth. How I long to be the strength they need. And as those words come, I know just how deeply He too longs to be our strength, longs to be all we need.

Dear friend, do you wonder if God call is really calling you to continue in the winter, if He meant for it to hurt so deeply? Do you question if God has given you enough warmth to keep the numbness from your heart, to keep the bitterness from seeping in? Do you doubt you have enough strength to keep loving, to keep your heart alive? To have any love left for others, enough strength to hold up those in your care? Do you have what it takes not just to survive, but to live well? Fully? Are you pressed into a place without answers? Asked to walk through a valley, given differing maps, to journey through uncertainty?

There is little in me to give to you, to give to anyone. But I am not what is needed— because He has offered himself, wholly. He is what is needed. He fills each empty place in our hearts. And if those places still feel empty, than we must reach for more of Him. He will never come up empty; His words never return void. The only hope I can offer is His. I don’t know how long your journey will be, or my journey. I only know where it ends. And whoever you are, I hope to worship at His feet with you at the end. And maybe we will meet and share an embrace of joy? For we will know that no matter how hard our journey was, no matter how long the season lasted, we were deeply loved because He was so deeply needed.

Luke 7:⁴⁴ Then He turned to the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave Me no water for My feet, but she has washed My feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head. ⁴⁵ You gave Me no kiss, but this woman has not ceased to kiss My feet since the time I came in. ⁴⁶ You did not anoint My head with oil, but this woman has anointed My feet with fragrant oil. ⁴⁷ Therefore I say to you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little.”

He is your comfort, and my comfort, today, always. And if we have tears to cry, may they be at His feet. And if we have breath in us, may it be in utterance to Him. And if He blesses us with answered prayer, may we pour an oil of gladness at His feet, and if not, may we cling to Him more tightly. May our lips be at His feet, His wounded feet, as we bring our wounds to Him. And though He heals all pain, we may walk with scars as He did. And maybe, just maybe, we have been chosen for this trial because our Betrothed longs for us at His side?

So without answers, I must walk steadily on in His direction. He is the only salve for what I feel. There is nothing more to extend to your own hurting heart, and yet nothing less, than the hope of how wonderfully loved you are, and by Whom. And His love may not be revealed in the form we are expecting, or be all we thought we wanted, but it is always far better. May we pray and take heart together, that our own hearts can overflow— with His amazing love. Love sonnets from God surround us.

                                                                         an amazing way He has shown His love to me...

                        something beautiful~ made from just pieces...

                         A sister's gift of love, well-received.

                                                                                    His love and goodness, in every season.

In Christ Alone

In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm

What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand

In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless Babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save

‘Til on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live, I live

There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again

And as He stands in victory
Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ

No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From a life’s first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny

No power of hell, no scheme of man
Could ever pluck me from His hand
‘Til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I stand

I will stand, I will stand
All other ground is sinking sand
All other ground, all other ground
Is sinking sand, is sinking sand
So I stand

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