It is 57°. In Wisconsin. In January. Every year I pray and pray for snow for my birthday, but I have to admit it is quite nice having the window open and a warm breeze blowing through the house. Okay so maybe the breeze isn’t exactly warm, but the heat from the oven is and the breeze is carrying it through my home with the fresh air. It’s so easy to grumble and sludge your way through winter. I made up my mind years ago not to do that. And a funny thing happened; I no longer dreaded the dark, cold days. In fact, it became my favorite time of year. As I found little things to be thankful for, my entire perspective shifted. There is no other season that will point out your discontentment like winter. There is no other season that will show you how involved or not involved in other peoples lives you are. In the winter it is not easy to see friends and family. You have to decide to put on layers upon layers and trek through the snow and ice to your car and then you still have to drive there and back! Things slow down. Traffic, get togethers, parties, your own body! Winter is a time for reflection. A time for hope to grow underneath the frozen ground only to burst forth in the months to come in all its brilliant glory. Yes, I love winter. I love the waiting, I love the unseen, I love that once a year there is a season that forces me to deal with where my contentment lies. And I also love the days in January that come once every few years where you can open your windows and air out your home and catch a glimpse of what is to come.
