What To Do With The Dreary of February

It’s a dreary February morning. Yesterday’s generous blanket of snowfall, wrapping the woods in exuberant light, has been ravaged by the monotony of rain. 

The sky is grey now. The woods cloaked in darkness. 

My word, how I hate this month.

Earlier this week my heart was bursting with joy and full of hope. I was hosting a bible study in my home. Women coming to connect with God, His Word, and each other. A sliver of Glory. The weeks ahead would be something to anticipate, a guaranteed joy. 

And here I am, just two days later. There are tears and restlessness. Is it the rain? Or something more? 

I hate solitude, yet I also desire it. There’s a difference between being alone with one’s thoughts and loneliness. 

Why does the dead of winter make me feel so dead inside? Why can’t the snow just stay? Lighten the burden of this month’s oppressive grey? 

Snow is never a certainty where I live. It’s hoped for, wished for, but not quite expected. That’s why when it comes, I’ve learned not to take it for granted. I’ve learned, it won’t last long. 

Two Sundays ago, I woke up to a cascade of snowflakes. Alternately they rushed through the sky, eager to make landfall, and then slowed down their cadence, quiet and hushed. 

The transformation of our woods was magical.

 I felt an urgency inside: Don’t miss this. 

Before the tyranny of other matters swayed my mind, I quickly got dressed. Boots, gloves, coat, hat, and phone camera at the ready. 

Stepping out the door almost felt like stepping into another world. As I headed away from the house and further into the woods, the crunch, crunch, crunch of snow underfoot sounded strangely familiar. I remembered!

I was Lucy Pevensie, and I had entered Narnia. 

As those who’ve read “The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe” would know, time seemed to nearly stop for me as I roamed, childlike in my wonder. 

It was probably only twenty minutes, but I felt like I had experienced a tiny sense of timelessness. 

And there were moments I full expected Aslan to suddenly come into view. 

I can’t remember the last time I felt so elated.

I have to learn to take what February brings: the dismal and the delightful. I have to remember, as Ecclesiastes reminds me, there is a season for everything. 

The thing is, whether its dismal, despairing, disappointing, or dark…it won’t last forever. It’s just a moment. A season.

But I have to remember that the delights are fleeting too. 

By default, I take notice of the grey skies and grey times. Isn’t this our human nature? 

When joy and beauty are found, I must drink deeply of them.

A reservoir of delight to combat the dismal. 

A supply of illuminating hope.

A reminder that the midwinter won’t last forever.

I don’t have to hate February.