The sun emerged today, and the air warmed. It was a miracle of sorts. Suddenly life felt do-able in a different way. I reached the turning point in winter weeks ago, the time when a warm coat ceased to seem a blessing and shedding one a symbol of freedom.
Yes, I know a coat is a coat, and it’s always a blessing when the weather is bad. Still, I’m ready for spring.
I write this because as I stride happily along the streets of New York with the sun on my shoulders today, I know that what I want in the way of weather is largely irrelevant. It’s actually a good example of how the fact that God loves me has almost nothing to do with whether I am comfortable or not.
I can loathe February and yet know it is still beneficial to slog through, because the month forces me to find ways to praise the Lord on gray days and in the midst of gray feelings.
I can scowl through a 10-day cold snap, yet let it remind me there is a difference between what feels like an eternity on earth and the true eternity of heaven.
It’s even possible that I can gain insight into the reality that what I think I need—like a break from dreary winter—has little to do with what God knows I need. He almost certainly would prefer me to adjust my definition of perseverance than to complain, and He probably sees that my soul would benefit if I shifted my focus to something other than my personal comfort. He might be waiting patiently through these short days for the coldness of my heart to warm up with concern for those who suffer more.
Hence I suspect the weather is only “all about me” in one way: It opens up an infinite number of possibilities for what can happen in my soul. Can I learn to love God as much when I’m physically uncomfortable as when I’m comfortable? Can I praise him as deeply in slush as in sunshine? Can I grow closer to Him in all circumstances?
Yes, I can. And then I can be really thankful for the blessing of a warm day.
