I talk to my friend about what it means to become like a child in winter. Here in Pennsylvania, we’re expecting a big storm tomorrow–maybe up to 10 inches of snow! I felt a little dread. I longed for the beach. I shivered in my thermal coat. But then, just when I felt the dreariness of grey skies, icy sidewalks, and bitter cold, I remembered to become like a child.
For children, snow means absolute delight outside: skating, sledding, building snowmen, making snow angels, designing snow forts, and turning the woods into a winter wonderland.
And it’s not only a season for being outside. Being inside in wintertime means the coziness of hot chocolate with plenty of whipped cream, the warmth of a kitchen with soup on the stove, and the sanctuary feeling of a home with candles to light, books to read, and blankets to arrange with room for cats to join you. It’s a slower, contemplative time. One day, I might have a fireplace! Until then, I can watch the snowfall as the sun sets in the forest.
I’m looking forward to a few things including snowflake photography, winter hikes, and skating on Colyer Lake. I’m looking forward to walking in my boots with my YakTrax and returning to hot chocolate. And this week, I’ll make a vegetable dumpling soup. In other news, my husband and I decided we might try an electric blanket to heat the cold bed at night. He wants to learn cross-country skiing this year, too.
When God has you in a certain location, you surrender to it. You realize all the joyful things in store for you right where you are. Sure, I think about my friends in Florida sometimes, but then I remember my particular calling to a season of snow. I fall back into it and wave my arms to make the angels—who were always there—appear.