“In the bleak midwinter frosty wind made moan, earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone: snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, in the bleak midwinter, long ago.”
In the Bleak Midwinter, Glory to God #144

It’s approaching January and in western Pennsylvania, from where I write, the bleakness of winter is present.

Whether or not this time of year is indeed “bleak” depends on perspective, of course. Some people love this time of year. I have a friend, he looks a bit like Yukon Cornelius from Rudolph, and he and his family love winter. They embrace all the opportunities winter has to offer — hiking, skiing, snowball fights, even a midwinter jump into a pond where they have to break the ice before they plunge.

I would love to have their enthusiasm, but I don’t. Gray days, slush, and piles of dirty snow in parking lots with an inventive youth, most likely, parking a shopping cart at the very top of the pile, does not fully warm my heart. Like the song, I find this time of year a bit bleak, foreboding, and even barren.

The incessant call to improve oneself in January doesn’t help either. This improving yourself seems more like a commercial money maker than it does any kind of path forward to care of body and soul.

To be honest, I am also tired. Maybe you are too. Advent and Christmas seems like a full-fledged marathon and then January has so many meetings, beginning of the year gatherings, new officers in the life of the church, and lurking around the corner is Lent. It will be here before we know it. All I really want to do is sit under a blanket, eat a good bowl of potato soup, and have some crusty bread with some really good butter slathered on it.

The Psalmist writes, “O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” – Psalm 63:1 (NIV)

So what to do with January? January feels a bit desert-like in some ways. Deserts seem to be empty and void. Yet we know it isn’t true. Many of the most profound encounters with God happened in the desert even in the midst of the bleakness. Many of the most profound events found in scripture happened in the desert. Moses and the burning bush, Abraham and Sarah among the Oaks of Mamre, Jesus staying 40 days in the desert after which he was tempted, Saul on his way to Damascus, and of course, the Israelites wandered the desert for those 40 long years.

I wonder if there is room for the sacred in the midst of a January that can feel barren, foreboding, and lonely. Perhaps. Sandwiched between Christmas and Lent, maybe this is the perfect time to pause, reflect, and spend moments in the just being human, remembering that we are beloved.

As Henri Nouwen writes, “Every time you listen with great attentiveness to the voice that calls you the Beloved, you will discover within yourself a desire to hear that voice longer and more deeply. It is like discovering a well in the desert. Once you have touched wet ground, you want to dig deeper.”

Perhaps instead of the self-improvement that is such a part of this season, we see this season as one of reflection, care of self (I like hot soup, warm tea, a cat next to me, and a book that has little to do with theology), and care of neighbor and community. A neighbor recently dropped off some muffins on our porch. It was such a gift! A little butter and that aforementioned tea. So good for body and soul.

I wonder if we can search for an outward focus that isn’t so much about us.

At the end of the month, we will begin our second year of hosting a community dinner. It’s free. We cook. Folks come and have a sit-down dinner. A year ago was the first time we did this meal, 40 people showed up for the meal. In November, we had 175 show up – and they don’t want to go home when dinner is done. They would stay for several more hours just visiting with one another – but alas, our faithful volunteers need to head home themselves.

There is life in the midst of the bleak midwinter. There is hope, love, joy and care in the midst of the frosty winds and cold. We may have to dig just a little deeper, the well of our belovedness is found, the voice of Jesus carries us onward, the days are becoming longer, soon the first signs of spring will come forth.

In the meantime, like that friend of mine, let us embrace the fullness of God’s presence and love in the midst of midwinter.

May the peace and love of Christ be with you