Winter Woes…

February is not my favorite month. There, I said it.

It is dark and cold and dreary and the days are way too short.

I like bright things and light things and sunny days and warm weather and yellow hearts Happy, bubbly, sunshine-y things.

February fails at this.

Twelve years ago, I had a precious friend that I met up with from time to time. We went to the gym together, playdates, birthday parties, all of the things that young moms do.

We were complete opposites. She had very dark, jet black hair and tatoos and several body piercings.

I, on the other hand, had bleached out blonde hair, not a hint of ink on my skin and consider a second ear piercing to be risque.

Despite our differences, we were great friends. I admired her so much as a mother. She loved her children, which happened to be the same age and same sexes as my children. One boy and one girl.

Several times when I was with her, I would try to bring up Jesus and salvation, but often chickened out. I decided that until God gave me the words and the boldness, I would just try really hard be a light to her and a good friend.

When our kids became more involved with school and other activities, we drifted apart.

A couple of years later, I got the news.

My beautiful friend had taken her own life.

I remember sitting in the shower with hot water pouring down my shaking body wondering why on this earth she decided to leave her family in such a way. Also wondering if I could make myself small enough to slide down that shower drain and not have to feel another painful emotion.

By the time I found out about her death, the funeral had already taken place.

I found a website online that had an address to her mother’s house. I had to get in touch with her mother. I had to let her know how much her daughter had meant to me.

I sat down with shaking hands and wrote the letter.

Still to this day, twelve years later, I have no idea if her mother received the letter.

From time to time when I look at my kids, I think of her children. What do they look like now? How are they doing?

Her death was in February.

Last Wednesday, we had the funeral for my father-in-law.

He passed away on January 26th.

The funeral was February 2nd.

It has been hard for all of us.

This grieving and this sadness and this wringing of the hands of why he had to leave so soon.

I find myself going through the stages of grief…like sadness, confusion, anger…all of the things.

Yet, I am reminded of a scripture that God showed me at the tail end of 2021…

“Behold, I am making all things new.” Revelation 21:5

I see the passage everywhere. I get into my car and crank up the radio and the song “He makes all things new” is playing. Almost every time I get in my car.

He was preparing my heart.

These words, these Old Testament words bubbling up in my heart when I need them most..

To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness, that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He might be glorified.” Isaiah 61:3

He gives us, no, He appoints us…to those who mourn…

Beauty for ashes.

Joy for mourning.

A garment of praise for heaviness.

Trees of Righteousness.

To bring Him glory.

What HOPE.

As I walked my dog today, I looked around at the cold ground. The barren trees. The smoky sky without a hint of sunshine.

I stopped to take it all in.

I breathed deeply.

Lord, thank you for this season. It is all a part of Your plan.

I will praise You.

I will give thanks.

Because…

Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy. They weep as they go to plant their seed, but they sing as they return with the harvest. Psalm 126:5-6

I stand on God’s Word that these tears we are sowing in this season will reap harvest upon harvest of JOY.

Friend, if you find yourself in this same season of heaviness, of grief, of loneliness…

You can be sure without a shadow a doubt, those tears are being planted in God’s Holy soil. Not one of them escapes His attention.

Those tears are preparing a bounty of harvest, a bounty of Joy.

He is close to the brokenhearted, He says so plain as day in Psalm 34:18.

Lean into this season instead of away from it.

Sit in it. Ponder it. Get muddy in it. Treasure this closeness with Jesus that only a grieving heart can bring.

You will be changed.

Bearing the scars, but also bearing the healing.

Dry bones, being brought back to life.

Spring is coming.

It always does.

putting on my garment of praise,

jill