It Won’t Always Be Winter

It’s the last day of the hardest month and I am so ready to say good riddance. I think if we took a poll, many would say January is their toughest month. The excitement from the holidays are over. Winter still stretches before us and the promise of spring feels far off in the distance. 

Most days right now I feel like I am surviving on hope. I have found that in the process of healing, it is sometimes painful to stay present.

 It often feels like a battle for my conscience. I want to be present to appreciate what I do have, because I do have so very much. 

But when I stay present, reality looks me straight in the face and brutally reminds me that I am still mourning.

Reality in January is a difficult reality to embrace. Some days it feels like it might stay January forever. 

That’s where hope comes in; glorious and full of life, hope reminds us to hold on. 

From day one of my story changing, hope has reminded me that there will be better and brighter days. Emily Dickinson’s words, “Hope is the thing with feathers” pushed me through many dark days in the beginning of this journey.

But even with hope, winter has taken it out of me. January has been so very tough. It has been cold. It feels dark all the time. And it has been lonely.

Here’s the comforting truth: Winter won’t last forever. The seasons promise us it won’t always be this cold. Life promises it won’t always be this dark.

Sometimes I think we were given seasons so we can appreciate the opposites of life. We experience cold weather to know how much we treasure the warm weather.

We experience darkness to know how much we yearn for and need the light.

Right now I am craving the warm sun on my skin. I miss my runs outside in comfortable temperatures. I miss Owen and I playing on our deck in the mornings while I sip my coffee and say a prayer of thanks for our time together in the morning.

This weekend the weather was a joyful reminder that it won’t always be winter. 

But it wasn’t just the weather that helped remind me. It was the feeling I have buried deep beneath the grief. It’s the feeling of trust that it won’t always be this hard. It’s the feeling that after winter comes spring. 

So when I’m feeling as blah as I can imagine feeling and like the doldrums of winter are taking over, I will remind myself of the glorious truth that it won’t always be winter. 

  
 

 

 

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