I go out for a walk alone, and I notice the bright winter sun. It’s so strange how I strain for that sunshine on my face as if the sun is the one who moved away. It never moved; it stays there, fixed, and I obit around it. My perception of its warmth changes each season, but it has never once moved.
In these changing seasons, I remember that God’s love is a fixed reality. It never moves, even if it feels like it’s moving far away from me. God never moves away; His love never dims. In some seasons, I must strain more, turn my face more sharply to it, and chase it down because I’m the one who has moved.