Walking with Winter

Thoughts on the Backwards Beauty of Darkness

Original image credit to Markus Spiske

My Dear Lovelians & Lifers,

Did you know Christmas cacti need darkness to grow and bloom beautiful?

Blooming in darkness. What a concept. People are the same.

I used to abhor darkness in every form, specifically not being able to see. I have terrible night vision for one, and for another, I just hate not knowing. Darkness embodies everything I fear as a person----the unknown, not being able to prepare or rehearse...or control. But living as a partial shade plant has shown me a thing or two. I am a lot more akin to a Christmas cactus than I thought.

There exists a backwards kind of beauty, a deeper kind. One that must be experienced before it can be seen. Facing seasons of darkness is like this; it’s like walking with Winter.

From inside looking out, Winter dresses bleak in soft tones of silver and fog, easily outshined by his colorful sisters. Spring twirls about in swaths of pale silk and flower-adorned curls; Summer laughs invitingly, draped in vibrant shades of green produced by the warmth and wetness of her season; Lady Fall strides through the halls in floor-length gowns of deep crimson, auburn, and gold.

There is a seriousness about her beauty that does not exist in her young sisters. She knows what’s coming; the effect her brother has on most people. And yet, she loves him with every fiber of her elegant attire, with every fallen leaf on the forest floor, for she also understands the great goodness and tenacity that awakens within the remnants who too understand his value and appreciate his lessons.

Winter walks in the room. Nature in all its quiet power on full display---- trees stripped bare exposing their great strength as they stand casually and silently in the freezing temperatures; hardened ground encasing the earth that only those who share its incredible strength can break through----Guests endure him with humorless smiles of Christmas lipstick and gritted teeth just long enough to be polite before sidestepping toward his warmer, more companionable younger sisters.

But when I walk with Winter, I feel alive. My cheeks turn pink from the frigid air that smells so crisp and fresh. Not a drop of humidity. My body works twice as hard to keep me functioning and my fingertips warm. The wind scratches at my eyes and any bits of exposed skin. Winter is harsh...and still. When the wind dies down, so does sound. The open-hearted ones are rewarded with the kind of beauty that cannot be adequately expressed in words or pictures.

Darkness is the same. Perhaps this explains why daylight hours are so short during Winter’s season. Like father like son. Winter has taken his father’s wisdom to heart, sharing lessons of resilience and rest from the dark.

I would never ask to walk in the dark, where the future remains elusive, just beyond the band of my LED headlights, nor can I claim winter as my favorite season. But I have found great peace here in the assurance that my Jesus and I walk through life together, and He continues to teach me what this partnership looks like. As I learn in the dark and cold, so I live in the light and warmth. I do not fear Darkness anymore, neither am I repulsed by Winter. I give them the honor they are due for the lessons they teach and strength they imbue. I take them out to tea. Or just take a walk.

There are so many stars. 

You have my Sword,

Olivia

P.S. I do not recommend walking in 28-degree weather. Been there done that. I draw the line below freezing. I’m not that crazy... Uhm… anymore