Had Enough of Winter? Look Again.

Winter blues? Look again.

About this time in winter, we start itching for spring. Everything is a motley shade of brown. For those of us living in the lower part of the Northeast, to date, we’ve had no joy of fluffy white snow to cover all the brown.

Looking out my window during my morning devotional, I recognized something different.

These trees, shorn of their finery, have yet to show a tiny blossom of spring. Their shades of greenery, long gone from summer, display no hint of the magnificent array of their fall colors. Stripped of all their wardrobes, they now stand baring their structure to us.

It mesmerized me.

Each limb reaches out to garner attention from the sun’s light. All manner of configurations, these branches reach up, down, sideways. Not one tree the same, each thriving to prepare for its change of clothes.

The trees are magnificent!

I wondered how my mind totally changed from longing for spring to finding an entire landscape I cherished. These proud sentinels rooted solidly in place, reminded me of two Bible verses.

They are like trees planted by streams of water,

which yield their fruit in its season,

and their leaves do not wither.

In all that they do, they prosper.

Psalm 1:3

Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord

And whose confidence is in Him.

      They will be like a tree planted by the water

           that sends out its roots by the stream.

            It does not fear when heat comes;

                its leaves are always green.

        It has no worries in a year of drought

               and never fails to bear fruit.”

Jeremiah 17:7-8

 

Can we learn from these trees?

With the daily news so full of our hurtful divisions, I wondered could we change our minds to really see the other? Could we spend enough time to see something different instead of the lack of one another? What if we could find something of worth? Surely, each of us has something to offer. Even if we don’t end up agreeing on points of view, could we apply some understanding, some empathy? Could we then treat our neighbor as ourselves?

As I ended my devotion in gratitude, I noticed one more thing. At the top of each tree there were slender branchlets sprightly, reaching with everything they had, praising God for their appreciation of life.

So when I think if I’ve had enough of winter, I think again.

I never saw all the browns of winter the same.

What I see now is the essence of a tree, the essence of us.