The Frozen Landscape Feels Like My Weary Soul...



Each day I drive past this stream insulated by the winter landscape. It leaves me contemplative and thoughtful. When I say it is glorious, I mean, it is glorious. I can't help but stop and take notice of this beauty in a season that appears lifeless. Growth is happening below the surface; every year we are trusting this to be true.


Seeds are frozen, paused...waiting...but every so often a-flutter with movement no one can see.


Maybe you feel frozen in a season of gray clouds, iron-cold fields, and dry, brittle stalks. Colorless. Maybe you are just making it. Do you fear that how you feel now is how you will always feel?


Chronic fatigue. Purposeless. Lonely. Stuck. Heartbroken.


If you don't feel this way, I am certain someone you know does.


One of my favorite artists whose best work was inspired by the muted colors across the landscape of winter in Chester County, Pennsylvania said it this way:


“I prefer winter and fall, when you can feel the bone structure in the landscape---the loneliness of it---the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it---the whole story doesn't show.” ― Andrew Wyeth


"The whole story doesn't show."


If you need reminding like I do, here it is: The God who created the Heavens and the Earth is a God of new stories, resurrection, and restoration. He makes a way where there is no way. He is a healer of broken hearts and shattered lives. He will NOT acquiesce to evil, giving it the final say. Sorrow will not sing the last song. Our King, with his strong hands, catches the arrows set against us, breaks them in two, and rebuilds our lives with the pieces. Suffering is not our story, wholeness and gratitude is. Though sorrow lasts for a night, joy comes in the morning. Redemption is the path we are on.


The cold of winter will thaw as we hold fast to Jesus's promise, "Behold, I am making all things new..."


I heard an interesting question this week in a podcast: "What is your relationship with uncertainty?" In other words, how do I handle the unknown circumstances I am facing? Can I rest in what I can't fix, eyes wide open for the potential of what will come? Am I able to trust there's growth happening in me, underneath the frozen ground, as a I wait? Isaiah describes it with an appealing image: "...hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places."


I have had you on my heart this week knowing we all face various uncertainties and grief over life not being what hoped, losses we can't imagine enduring, and hopelessness that takes up too much space in our souls. He will come to us in the middle of it all. His mercy is new every morning, my friends.