Winter creeps nearer as I sit.
Her frost has touched the leaves of every tree.
And now the wind whispers,
Meanders through fallen leaves.
That crunch beneath my feet.

I no longer sit too warm in sunshine.
Instead, I gaze at gray, white sky,
The blank and silent face of winter.
The chattering and racing of little birds and creatures
Grows sluggish.
They hold their own wisdom
To prepare for this season of stillness –
A wintering of mind and body
Resting, dying back.

The embers of autumn are now muted
In the tightness of cold air.
And yet winter claims its own beauty
The colors that remain seem more vibrant in contrast,
As the world waits,
Hushed to sleep.
The ground hardens,
Birds flee southwards,
And little creatures burrow deep
For only from this sabbath winter
Can a glorious spring someday come!

May we each find such security in our own winter seasons of life,
For the One in whom we rest holds us even more tenderly
Than He holds the little birds and rabbits.
And His purposes,
His seasons,
Never fail.

Truly my soul finds rest in God;
    my salvation comes from him. ~ Psalm 62:1 (NIV)

Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash

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