As we were walking out from Bible study yesterday, one of my friends remarked on all of us wearing boots. Another friend declared “Boots are the best part of winter!” and of course I wholeheartedly concurred. She then added that boots may be the only redeemable part of winter and I’m wondering if maybe I don’t agree with that as well.
I have always liked winter. I think I’ve told you that I think it corresponds nicely with my rather melancholy, dreary personality (and maybe I am engaging a bit of self deprecation when I say so, but only a little bit). This year, however, I find myself resenting the dreariness and the grayness and the winter-ness of winter. I am lethargic. I am tired. I find it increasingly difficult to combat feelings of depression and despondency.
More so than usual I mean.
I remember my mom’s distaste for February when we were growing up. It’s cold, it’s rainy, it’s gray, it’s dreary, and usually everyone gets sick, she would say. She is right. February can make one despair of spring ever making an appearance.
Of course when I speak of winter and Februarys I am speaking of the sort of winters and Februarys we know here in the deep South, which may or may not constitute a true winter to you, depending on where you live (I’m looking at you, Rebecca).
But maybe it’s not just winter contributing to my feeling all down and in the dumps. Maybe it’s February plus the cold plus the four or five headaches I’ve had this past month plus the subconscious countdown to my second son’s graduation and leaving home plus…well, isn’t that enough?
Yes it’s February and it’s winter but, unless the Lord returns, spring will come. Today may be gray and dreary–and not just out my window if you know what I mean–yet I know tomorrow will dawn with new mercies, daily bread, and the great faithfulness of my God. This I call to mind and therefore I hope.
And today I wear boots, the best part of winter, yes and amen.