Life dances in the rhythm of seasons—both the ones on the calendar and the ones we walk through in our hearts. This week, we're exploring what happens when we stop resisting our current season and start discovering the beauty that's always there, even in the cold.

Here's the surprising truth I discovered in my own dark winter: there is powerful, deep light to be found in the darkness. When everything else falls away and the noise quiets down, there's an undeniable presence that shows up in the stillness—gifts that can only be received when we stop resisting and start welcoming.

Join me as we explore winter's greatest gift: the revelation that we are enough, we are valuable, and we are deeply loved—even when everything we thought defined us has been stripped away.

Just as seeds require darkness to germinate, so do our new dreams and deepest healing. This week, discover how to befriend the darkness and find the profound peace that emerges when we stop running from what feels uncomfortable.

Find a space where you can be completely alone. Turn off your devices, close the door, and simply sit in your own company. Place your hand on your heart and speak this truth: "God, in this solitude, I'm not alone. You are here with me. Help me learn to love my own company and to hear your voice in the quiet spaces of my heart."

Winter's bare trees stand with quiet dignity—no leaves to hide behind, no pretense to maintain. Just honest, essential beauty revealed in the stripping away.

This week, we're exploring what it means to live with nothing to hide. Not because we've achieved perfection, but because we're learning to trust that our authentic selves—scars, imperfections, and all—are worthy of love.

In winter's depth, the most vital work happens where no one can see—in the deep, hidden network of roots that anchor and nourish. This week, we're exploring what it means to be rooted in God's love and how the quiet, underground work of our spiritual lives sustains us through every season.

The journey from barren to beautiful isn't always dramatic or sudden. Often it's subtle, gradual, almost imperceptible—like the way winter light softens toward spring, or how frozen ground gradually thaws, or how bare branches begin to show the faintest hints of buds.

To weather winter means more than simply surviving it. It means learning to thrive within its constraints, finding strength in its challenges, and discovering beauty in its harshness. In this week's reflection, we explore the sacred art of weathering—both literal and metaphorical winters. Just as trees bend with ice storms rather than breaking, and animals adapt their behaviors to survive harsh conditions, we too can learn to navigate difficult seasons with grace, wisdom, and deep trust in God.

In this week’s Winter Journal Reflection, we explore the sacred image of being Covered — and what it means to release the fragile, conditional identities we cling to and step into the eternal, unchanging covering of God’s love.

Like snow that falls with equal tenderness over the manicured garden and the wild, messy field, grace does not cover us because we’ve earned it. It covers us because covering is the nature of love itself.