Winter Wonderland
Perception makes all the difference. I remember hearing somewhere that perception is what creates our reality, which explains why 10 different people can experience the same conversation and walk away with 10 different interpretations. It really does make all the difference.
I’m not a winter fan. Yes, the iconic White Christmas is delightful and seeing snow can be fun, but the cold and everything looking as though it’s died? Not so much. Also, can we talk about how the sun decides to hibernate as well? Sad, sad times.
Based on that string of thoughts, I’m certain you can guess what my favorite season is: winter, of course. Oh wait.
I’ve allowed my perception of what I see and feel to influence myself into having a narrow minded approach to winter. Everything just seems so barren and empty. Life seems to have gone away for a time. Death looks as though it has won.
Where’s the hope in that?
As I’ve been driving around Georgia this winter, I’ve found myself being able to see more. Without the leaves on the trees, houses that were once hidden can be seen from the road. Parts of the lake that never would have been visible in the other seasons are now being highlighted. Good, fun, surprising, make-you-grin views are available that were not there before. A red cardinal might be able to hide itself in the trees in the summer, but in winter? It’s feathers are eye-catching to the point where those beautiful birds can’t help but be seen.
Back to the perception business. My perception of winter has been that it is a season where things are stripped down, and there is a revelation of the raw material. I’ve associated this with challenging or hard things in the sense that we get stripped down to our real selves so that we can truly see what we need to work on or let go of or process or…you get the point. I’ve forgotten that being stripped down shows us what we’re made of and that not only shows some areas that need growth, but also, we can see the good that has taken root.
The barrenness can bring just as much kindness as it can clarity and there is immense freedom in that.
To bring us down out of the clouds to some more practical application, I really love when things in the physical reflect what’s going on spiritual. In winter, roots grow deep. There is new clarity because there is less distraction. As 2017 comes to a close full of so much learning in leadership, recovering, healing, and celebration, some of the barrenness in my life is showing me that I made it. I was faced with some difficult things and some things that were so sweet they made me ache and grin all at once because of their tenderness, like marrying my best friend. 2017 has been a bit of a winter of the soul. It’s been a time where I’ve been stripped of what I thought I knew, of some expectations and dreams I had, but also, it has shown me that trust in the Lord really is part of my character. This year has reminded me that planting spiritual seeds really does bring beautiful fruit. I’ve faced my limitations as a human head-on, fumbled, lost some footing, and have returned to looking to the One who has an infinite amount of strength.
Sure, I failed in some ways, but He never does.
So, like my perception of winter, my perception of the year 2017 has been skewed. With the completion of the year, including 9 months of leadership, engagement, and a wedding all finished, there is less distraction and I can see more clearly what the Lord was doing and is working on now. Roots are growing deeper, and the fruit is coming.
I pray you are able to see some things more clearly than you have, but ultimately, I hope you’re able to see some good things you were unable to before. I think I have a greater understanding of the phrase “winter wonderland.” Though the winder is barren it is a land full of new wonder that I am finally seeing for the first time.
