March 17, 2025

Spring is on the horizon! The long winter watch is almost over. But before we shake off its dark velvet wraps for good, it might be well to think about what winter teaches us.

The stretch of time between November and April is all about waiting. Bulbs wait under the frozen earth. Bears hibernate in the cold mountains. Birds migrate, their old nests empty until the spring. All creation seems to enter a time of patience and unrealized expectation. But it is not a time of desolation. It is a time of hope for things yet unseen.
Human beings also experience “winter” – not simply the seasonal one – but “winters of the spirit”. We all go through times when our nests have been emptied; times when all the beautiful flowering aspects of our lives seem dormant; times when our vigor and strength seem to hide in the cave of depression or sadness.
These “winters” take many forms. We may find ourselves sick of a job we had always loved. We may find a long, committed relationship wavering. We may find the burdens of age or economics overwhelming us. We may be the unwilling bearers of responsibilities we had not bargained for.
But if we listen, under the deep silence of any winter, the wind rustles. It carries the hint of a new season. It carries the hope of the renewing cycle of our lives. In that silence, we may be able to hear our heartbeat more clearly. We may come to a clearer understanding of what is most important in our lives. In the stillness, we may be forced to know and understand ourselves more deeply.

Others may reach out to us in their “winters”. They may be ill, experiencing confusion, or overwhelmed by the demands of their lives. They are asking for reassurance that some form of spring is coming. They yearn to feel the warmth and hope of renewed life. Our compassion for their needs will grow if we can remember our own winters. Surely, there has been a time when someone lifted the ice and blew warm breath over our fears, grief, or isolation. Someone held hope out to us to grab hold.
I think of a powerful image from the works of St. Teresa of Avila. She imagines God as a warm healer leaning over our frozen world, setting free the beauty of our spirits. This is what she says:
And God is always there,
Teresa of Avila
if you feel wounded.
God kneels over this earth
like a divine medic,
and God’s love
thaws the holy in us.
When we are compassionate and offer one another hope and light, we free what is sacred and do a holy work. Every time you touch another person’s life, you have the chance to change winter into spring. You have a chance to be like God.
Music: I Will Carry You – Sean Clive
For Your Reflection
- What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
- Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ?
- What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?
Suggested Scripture: Song of Solomon 2:11-13
St Renee,Thank you so much for this today. It struck me deeply as I
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Frank, I didn’t get your full message. You and your family are in my daily prayers.
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