Sacred Shadows
The dark days of Winter often feel endless, stretching beyond what we think we can bear. The shadows seem to conceal the answers we long for, leaving us to wrestle with uncertainty. Yet, within this season’s quiet depths lies a surprise—a sacred discovery we didn’t expect.
Winter reveals its own kind of answers, whispering truths hidden in the dark. They come gently, like the Winter sun glancing off the snow, pure and breathtaking, steadfast and holy. These answers don’t just illuminate; they ground us, reflecting a light that sustains even in the coldest hours.
As the psalmist says,
“I waited and waited and waited for God.
At last, he looked; finally, he listened.”
In the stillness, God meets us, lifting us from the depths, steadying our steps, and teaching us a song of praise that rises even in the chill of Winter.
This is the mystery of Winter’s darkness—an invitation to abandon fear and trust the God who makes even the shadows sacred.
The dark days of Winter often feel endless, stretching beyond what we think we can bear. The shadows seem to conceal the answers we long for, leaving us to wrestle with uncertainty. Yet, within this season’s quiet depths lies a surprise—a sacred discovery we didn’t expect.
Winter reveals its own kind of answers, whispering truths hidden in the dark. They come gently, like the Winter sun glancing off the snow, pure and breathtaking, steadfast and holy. These answers don’t just illuminate; they ground us, reflecting a light that sustains even in the coldest hours.
As the psalmist says,
“I waited and waited and waited for God.
At last, he looked; finally, he listened.”
In the stillness, God meets us, lifting us from the depths, steadying our steps, and teaching us a song of praise that rises even in the chill of Winter.
This is the mystery of Winter’s darkness—an invitation to abandon fear and trust the God who makes even the shadows sacred.
The dark days of Winter often feel endless, stretching beyond what we think we can bear. The shadows seem to conceal the answers we long for, leaving us to wrestle with uncertainty. Yet, within this season’s quiet depths lies a surprise—a sacred discovery we didn’t expect.
Winter reveals its own kind of answers, whispering truths hidden in the dark. They come gently, like the Winter sun glancing off the snow, pure and breathtaking, steadfast and holy. These answers don’t just illuminate; they ground us, reflecting a light that sustains even in the coldest hours.
As the psalmist says,
“I waited and waited and waited for God.
At last, he looked; finally, he listened.”
In the stillness, God meets us, lifting us from the depths, steadying our steps, and teaching us a song of praise that rises even in the chill of Winter.
This is the mystery of Winter’s darkness—an invitation to abandon fear and trust the God who makes even the shadows sacred.