Always Winter, not yet Christmas

 How many times have we wished for warmer, sunny days in the winter, or longed for cooler winds to blow in the middle of summer? I think our fickle human-ness presents itself most frequently when we think we have had sufficient exposure to a certain object, and we feel it is time for a change. As if we are in charge of the weather, or how fast a wound heals, or how long it takes to commute from one place to another.

This year is a strange one, winter can't seem to release her grasp on the wheel of seasons. But never fear - Spring always follows winter, and after spring comes summer, which brings us to autumn, and back again to winter. Round and round it goes, year after year after year.

So then, how does one cope with the seasons that may not come as expected?

The seasons of life.

In your autumn and winter years, you are presumed to harvest the joys of watching your little sprouts turned adults, in their summer days springing forth with new buds of yet another fresh sprig on the branches of the family tree. "No parent should have to bury a child."

When we lost our son, Nathanael, time stopped for us. Time was stuck in a dimension of its own. It was just the beginning of autumn, but the unrelenting, bleak days of winter surrounded us.

When you lose a loved one - it feels like it is always winter.

Always winter, and never Christmas. Like in the land of Narnia.

The seasons will never come as expected. The ways things are now, can no longer follow the way it was.

 The days of celebrating are gone. The holidays may be spent together with family, but there is a gray shadow looming over the gaily wrapped gifts. The once colorful basket of eggs, if any at all, no longer cheer the room. Mother's and Father's day may feel like a mockery, full of emptiness, a cruel dagger to the heart. The fireworks may light up the sky, but they miserably fail to penetrate the darkness we can not escape. The birthday cake no longer carries a song. The candles are all burnt in loving memory, no one wants to snuff out that fragile reminder of life ever again.

(These images may make the uninitiated cringe at such somber affairs.)

But for those of us who have had to walk this broken road, we know the heartbreak of an empty chair. The son who will never come back home. The daughter who will never see their baby grow up. The father who will never call again. The brother whose laughter will never fill the air. Life is different now.

Eventually, though, spring does return. Our seasons will never be the same, but there will be a day when all will be made right.

If we can recall the excitement of being a child on Christmas Eve? The wonder and joy we could hardly contain. So much energy in a little body, all the squirming in our seats during service, sneaking peeks at the gifts under the tree. Knowing there was something absolutely wonderful just for us.

Even in our sorrow, in the midst of the pain and sadness, right where the gaping hole of our son's absence trips us daily - that is where we can expect to find a glimmer of hope. Right smack dab in the center of that darkness is an ever-so-tiny spark. The faint light of a new day, slowly growing brighter until it fills the room.

When our clouded eyes begin to focus on that distant glow, we can muster a bit of faith in what we held onto before our seasons were scrambled.

"But the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn,
    which shines brighter and brighter until full day." - Proverbs 4:18

We will see our son again. You, too, will see your loved ones. That is a celebration I am longing for. There is nothing in this world that can replace that hope. The glorious hope of forever in heaven.  

"Just beyond the lamp post."  Like Lucy in C.S.Lewis' book, The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, I know there is a world out there, bigger than we have ever imagined, just waiting for us to explore.

 It will be better than Christmas Eve! 

 So, I will be over by the fireplace mantle, poking around at my stocking, to see if I can imagine all the absolutely wonderful things God has in store. 

Romans 8:37-39

No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us.

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.

A good song for the day:    
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vh99QLRCxK4
Relient K "In Like A Lion (Always Winter)"


stories from the journey of my life ↝ written by: Sue Leerhoff ↜ Brick by Brick