there’s something about winter that makes me feel like i am half asleep all the time. quite literally, i find myself falling asleep in certain classes, without fail. but there is also a sense of a veil shrouding my view, of not seeing clearly; a sense that i’m failing to see something that’s right before me.
i suppose, in some ways, it’s like a dulling of the senses. the first snowfall is breathtaking, beautiful. but after that, all you see is the brown slush and black ice. it loses its wonder – no, you lose your wonder. it’s easier to grow numb in the winter, somehow. so much cold, so much insulation. and it’s draining, life-sucking, because i was not made to live half-awake. i was made to live with my eyes wide open.
so help me to see, Lord. let me not settle into this stupor, grow accustomed to these hibernating ways. let me not confuse passive, inactive hibernation with the act of waiting on You, retreating to and with You, and always, always seeking You. awaken me, Lord, to the now, to the then, to the next time. open my eyes to Your invisible hand becoming visible all around me.
for with You, in the depth of winter lies an invincible summer.