Seeing through the fog

Most mornings by 7 am, I’m sitting in my snuggly bathrobe in my front room with my cup of coffee and devotional books. I watch the sun come up over the tree line of Jack and Zeta’s pasture across the way and listen for God’s word for me. 

But the past week we have had rain and more rain here in NW Georgia and for the last few mornings a wall of fog has covered my view. My mood has matched the dense clouds. Feelings of sadness weigh heavily on me and just like the gray outside my window, I can’t see past it.

I find myself in this funk at the end of every January and maybe you are the same. Even though February is almost here and is a short month (and my birthday month!) winter seems long. I know in my mind that the sun will come out eventually and that soon the yellow daffodils will push up through the cold and soggy ground. But in my soul I’m slogging through.

A friend said recently that she felt constantly in mourning for losses in her life and I think I am there too. On gloomy winter days those losses, and worrying about future loss, seems hard to shake. The poet Mary Oliver captures it in a verse from her poem, Starlings in Winter:

Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,

even in the leafless winter,

even in the ashy city.

I am thinking now

of grief, and of getting past it. 

Are you too thinking of grief? How can we get past it on these leafless winter days?

I am learning to give myself grace. This means not listening to those voices in my head that tell me to Snap out of it! or You have so much to be thankful for! Yes that’s true, but I can acknowledge that some days are down ones. Speaking my feelings out loud, in my journal, or to a trusted friend is great therapy. Getting my fears and frustrations out in the open takes away their power. 

Moving is also important during these chilly days. I swim a few days a week, walk, and go to the gym to lift weights. On particularly cold and dreary days I pull up a YouTube workout.

And being around other people keeps me on an even keel. I find that I need not just my friends, but everyday interactions with people at the grocery store, the pool or the post office. I need my church family and to do for others.

Perhaps the gift of having times of struggle is that I find God waiting for me. When my soul is downcast, I am more open to God’s presence.

Even Paul in the New Testament had times when he felt sadness deep in his soul:

“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.

Romans 8:26-27, NIV

I love the assurance that even if I cannot verbalize my fear and grief, the Holy Spirit understands and interprets for me to God. This is a comfort on those days when I am blue, when the way ahead does not seem clear, when fog threatens to envelop me.

Winter is a waiting time. Just as the bulbs in my garden are underground, taking what they need from the earth in order to bloom in the spring, God is working in me during these dark days. He is teaching me about patience and forgiveness and gratitude. He is holding me and using others in my life to show me love and care, even if they don’t realize it. He is preparing me for the Spring and for the work and joys ahead.