As I awaken before sunrise, I am greeted by darkness. Not even a sliver of light peeks through my curtains. My mind recognizes the moment and the dread of peeling back the covers to expose my body to the sting of the cool air almost consumes me. Knowing I have consecrated my days to God’s purposes in this season of life, motivates me to move out of my position of security. The day is calling.
Growing up in Michigan, (now living in Illinois) you would think my body would have adapted by now. I’ve lived through nearly 55 years of them. But, for me, winter is always hard. I can feel its grasp on my body and mind. However, knowing I have made it through that many winters gives me hope. I can do it again, even while I long for different awakenings. The kind that remind me that color, warmth, summer breezes, and long days will arrive again.
So I hold onto this reality not just as evidence of God’s handiwork in the sacred purposes of seasons but also as a metaphor for my life. Even when I don’t want to push through the seemingly unending seasons of cold and darkness, I can do it. Because God’s purposes for me in being a bearer of His kingdom are not dependent on the season I find myself in. God, the one who never sleeps nor slumbers is in them all.
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