Winter's Grip - Gloria Guest

For this month's post I chose to veer off topic slightly although my post still pertains to times of feeling like you've dried up be it physically, emotionally, spiritually or creatively. It comes from my personal blog that I share at gloriaguest@wordpress.com

I recently read an excerpt from a book entitled, Spiritual Rhythm by Mark Buchanan which talked about the verse in Eccl. 3:1, “For everything there is a season,” making the point that while summer is for growing and enjoying the sun, winter brings dormancy and waiting. And so it is with our lives. We are not always in the happy spring or thriving summer time of our lives.

Sometimes, just as snow covers the ground, shrouding all signs of growth beneath it, we can find our hearts in the middle of winter. I’ve heard statistics that say there are more people who visit psychologists during the month of January than any other month of the year. Of course there are ready conclusions for this such as facing the realities of overspending during the holidays or relational strife that also often occurs during the holidays. There is also the aptly named disorder SAD or Seasonal Affective Disorder which can cause some people to feel blue from a lack of light; no big surprise when at this time of year in Canada it seems the sun has no sooner risen, then it is setting again.

However for others, it can be more daunting than the above mentioned reasons. Winter has come and settled into their hearts with its cold, icy fingers and threatens to never let go. Spring appears to be nowhere in their future.

I have experienced my own times in the midst of winters’ grip. The first time, the promise of Spring was actually in the air; the ice was even breaking up on the Athabasca River that ran through my hometown in Northern Alberta, sending huge chunks flowing along it’s quick current, a sight that usually exhilarated me. However on this day, we were burying my mother who had died far too young at the age of 48 from cancer. I was sure the suns rays would never quite reach my aching heart again.

However slowly, warmth did penetrate my heart. God sent two angels in the form of my own small children whose laughter and smiles were infectious and brought life into my days. I discovered that life went on and even though things would never be the same or how I wished it could be, it could still be good. Winter had left and it was the springtime of my life.
I wish I could say that it stayed that way. However our little family went on to experience other hardships such as the loss of our way of life when we left our home on the farm to seek other employment…a time of grieving for sure. And then just when life was settling into a routine again in a new home in a new town, winter struck my life with a vengeance when we experienced the devastating loss of my younger sister to suicide. This time it felt like winter had come with a full force blast and was never leaving. Paradoxically it was a beautiful, warm, sunny June day when she died, but for me it may as well have been the middle of a January blizzard.

I write about these things not because I find it easy but because I know that there are some people reading this who are experiencing their own dark days of winter. Over the years I’ve read many things about this difficult season of life, some more helpful than others. I think Buchanan in his book Spiritual Rhythm, in writing about helping someone through the deep winter seasons of their life, said it better than most when he stated, “Some things are done only in winter. And some things are never done in winter. And that’s just the way it is.” By this, I believe he is saying that winter brings with it, it’s own rhythm, its own pace of moving through.
At my mothers’ funeral we played her favorite song, The Rose by Amanda McBroom a beautiful and meaningful song that describes a seed lying beneath the frozen snow of winter but in the spring the sun shines down and that cold, dormant seed becomes.... The Rose.

Thank you for stopping by for a moment…Gloria

The Winter Season - Shirley S. Tye

There are good and bad aspects to winter.

On the good side; the blanket of snow makes everything look clean, fresh, and pure; sounds are muffled by snow creating a peaceful atmosphere in many neighbourhoods; the pine trees are beautifully dressed in gowns of white; sun rays glisten on the snow making the days brighter; roads are smoother because potholes are packed with snow; mosquitoes and flies aren’t biting; weeds are asleep; and outdoor sports can be enjoyed without sweat dripping down one’s face.

On the bad side; driving and walking are treacherous activities because of icy streets and sidewalks; the cold takes away one’s breath; snow shoveling is a back breaking chore; the few birds that bravely stay to wait out the winter sing little – perhaps their notes are frozen in the air; road salt eats vehicles – I think I can hear the salt pellets chewing on what’s remaining of the metal on my old car; muddy salty puddles mark floors where boots have stepped; and getting boots on and off is a grunting exercise and when the task is complete that’s when the bathroom calls one more time.

Each season brings a change in surroundings, temperature, activities, and thinking. For some, winter is a time to slow down and perhaps crawl into bed a little earlier; a time of waiting for warmer weather and adventure; a time to work indoors; and a time to plan for the next season. Others march on at the same pace quickly switching their activities and thinking; hardly noticing a change in their surroundings.

Winter can be good or winter can be bad. It just depends on the view one takes and the adjustments one is willing to make.

~ Shirley S. Tye

From the End of Winter - Lorrie Orr

Thank you, Lorrie, for joining InScribe Writers Online on Guest Post Day.


Winter arrived on a sunny May morning when my husband walked into the house at 11:00 am saying, “The unthinkable has happened. I’ve been fired.”

He worked as an executive in a Christian company and his firing was without cause, and utterly unexpected. At that moment, a chill began to settle around my heart which deepened as months of unemployment lengthened. Other events contributed to bewilderment that swirled like a blizzard around me: marriage problems within our extended family, a daughter’s infertility, a move when my husband found work after 10 months of looking, and a nephew’s fight with cancer that ended with his death at the age of 29.

All is not bleak in winter. Beauty comes, and joy –– the delight of welcoming a new son-in-law and our first grandchild. There is laughter and friendship. But in the quiet, when alone, winter settles deep into my bones with frigid intent.

What does a winter of the soul look like?

It is not depression. It is knowing, from years of faith, that God is present, yet feeling only his absence. Prayer seems futile, yet I pour out my heart in words, in tears, in writing, to a God whom I believe still cares for me although I no longer feel his love.

It is cynicism and judgment, an inability and unwillingness to trust others. It is a heart that aches for warmth, yet shuts itself behind doors of ice. It is hurt.

It is not lack of faith, or sin. It is a barren, windswept landscape of disorientation in which I long for direction. It is plodding, step by step, head down into the wind, without knowing my destination. It is clinging to promises of hope, and reading over and over God’s promise of never leaving me, all the while wondering how long this winter season will last.

It is bafflement. It is asking questions for which no answers come. It is an unfulfilled longing to trust God and to rest in his goodness. It is waiting.

It is an oddly comfortable cohabitation of faith and doubt in which I realize that God welcomes my questions and wants only me. What he will do with me, I do not know.

I write now from the end of winter. This long winter, over three years in duration, is losing its chilling grip. There is lightness in my being, and a warmth melting the clod of ice in my chest. I write now before winter ends because I do not want to forget. I want to mark this season and winter’s lessons. Compassion. Understanding. A gentling of my spirit. A hatred of lack of integrity and false living. A realization that hope is one of my most precious gifts from God. Knowing that one day winter will end and new life will emerge. My soul feels the unmistakeable warmth of God’s Spirit once again and I melt in gratitude.

© Lorrie Orr

Lorrie Orr writes to make sense of the constant stream of thoughts running rampant in her mind. Married to Tim, mother of 3 plus 3, Nana to two darling little girls. Blogs at Fabric Paper Thread.