Winter has begun!
It does seem odd that after all those cold mornings in May, winter hadn’t even officially started, but now, as of the 1 June, it has!
How do you feel about winter? I have a distinct Canberra memory of driving past the avenue of trees around the Woden shopping centre, just after all the leaves had finished their glorious red and gold display and feeling a deep despondency. And yet there are other aspects of winter that I love; woollen jumpers and scarfs (they must have a mention!), tasty soups with a little bit of zing in them and hunkering down in flannelette sheets at night.
Winter feels like a time when you can take things more slowly, rest the body and the spirit, reflect, ruminate, allowing nascent thoughts and understandings and new developments in your life to unfold.
In her reflections on how our spiritual lives are impacted by the different seasons, Sister Joyce Rupp, also writes about how winter is a season restoration and renewal. She includes a quote from Episcopal priest Barbara Brown Taylor, “I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again, so that there is really only one logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light.” And she writes this prayer, naming God in this season of winter, as our Strengthening Darkness:
O Strengthening Darkness, I trust you are with me in the dormant, winter seasons of my spirit.
Each morning when I awake with light still hiding in the sleeve of winter’s night, I turn to you to receive assistance to meet the challenging requirements of the day.
Like terminal buds drawing strength from the roots of a wintered tree, I greet the darkest days of the year with confidence, trusting that the potency of your love will boost my resilience and strengthen my courage.
During this season when the hours of daylight are shortened, I remember your light within me. The glistening stars in the darkened sky assure me of your presence even when I do not sense your nearness.
Winter darkness invites me to breathe in stillness, to rest in the arms of your silence. In this receptive posture you can deepen and enhance what is of greatest value within my spirit.
Strengthening Darkness, I am like the terminal buds, on the tree of life, patiently waiting, trusting that my spiritual vitality is being reinforced during this dark season of rest. May these valued moments of the heart bolster my faith when I find life to be uncertain and ambiguous. Teach me to trust that darkness can be a source of growth. I will remain patiently until whatever seems buried in my spirit’s wintry repose awakens and unfurls with fortified stamina.
I like the second last line, “Teach me to trust that darkness can be a source of growth:” that even my grief at seeing the bare trees, at the start of a season of barrenness, can recognised as a time when growth will quietly take place.
May you too be able to trust that darkness can be a source of growth. Grace and peace in this winter season!
Belinda