If you’ve known me a long time, you know I hate winter. If you’ve known me a short time, you know I hate winter. Artic cold, snow, the holidays, and limited sunlight all add up, in my mind, to six monthes of misery. And if you don’t live here and think I’m exaggerating, I’m telling the truth, winter in northwest Iowa is six months long.
Let me say publicly, I could NEVER have been a pioneer woman. I am not made of the same stuff as Caroline Ingalls in Little House on the Prairie. The Long Winter would have done me in and with or without Charles, the train couldn’t have gotten me back to New England fast enough.
But the fact that I hate winter is not exactly what this post is about.
This post is about beauty.
When I walked out of my house this morning, I was struck, not for the first time, with the beauty of the snow swirling around me. Winter has a way of closing in the walls; wrapping you in snow, overcast skies, and a strange chill that reminds you you’re alive. As you wrap your coat tighter, pull down your hat and nuzzle your face into the scarf seeking warmth, you feel separated from everyone else…alone. Not lonely, but alone.
I like being alone…not lonely, but alone. I used to think it was a curse and the cause of some of my depression. Now I get that it’s just how I’m made. Solitude recharges me.
When I’m alone True Beauty shows up and reminds me He’s with me in my winter. He’s the warmth I seek and when I’m alone, His presence is clear. He’s right there…in every thought, every day dream, every part of my heart.