In March 2022 we experienced a magic I don’t know if we’ll ever experience again — we bought our first house, first garage, and first backyard. Pink tulips and daffodils sprung up first with friendship. Each outing and walk felt like we were unfolding out of winter into a new adventurous world of home. The ownership we felt of the streets and the downtown and the community is all tangled up with Easter flowers and rainy sunshine. We enjoyed patio parties and a garden that graciously exploded with beginner’s luck.

While I’m dreaming of sunshine, flower seeds, and iced coffee on a quilt in the lush grass — currently, there are splotches of muddy snow and cold winds.

Toward the end of each of the four seasons, I always feel the draw toward the next. Today I’d like to isolate winter and appreciate it, separate from Christmas, even separate from the stirring of spring. Perhaps only to nudge gratitude from my heart. There’s nothing wrong with anticipating the joys of the earth melting into new life, but putting winter into words causes me to give thanks for —-

The way the sun feels like a hug piercing through the car window on the interstate.

Soup and warm bread are always welcome, or a loaded baked potato, or hot blueberry muffins.

Glittery snow dust spraying down off the neighbor’s roof.

Snuggling up to read picture books like, “Owl Moon,””Katy and the Big Snow,” “The Loud Winter’s Nap,” and “The Coziest Place.”

De-icing the plane so we could escape to the sub-tropics of rainy Houston.

A weekend of solid preaching, encouraging believers, worship, and Texas brisket.

Blazing through books, and feeling like there’s not a better place to be than absorbed in a story or reflecting on a truth.

Enjoying seeing the English countryside in All Creatures Great and Small, admiring how Helen is a faithful and creative helpmeet.

This Little Women soundtrack, heavy with triumph, emotion, and girlhood delight.

The last jar of canned salsa, straining to make it to the ground’s thawing when we’ll garden again.

Discussing the account of Ruth’s redemption by the fireside.

The warmth of togetherness and the flame of hunger for God’s Word.

The Refiner’s Fire.

A chunky-knit throw blanket.

Shopping my own house for new home looks, but also leaving and loving white space.

Hopes of a ski day if the snow sticks.

My son scattering a zoo’s worth of animals throughout the house, and often we sit on cows, horses and giraffes hiding in the couch.

Attempting to follow the mantra, “there’s no such thing as bad weather, just improper clothing” but staying inside a great majority of the time anyway.

An overcast sky ending in array of brilliant colors.

Taking advantage of the things that can only be done inside…like scrubbing the shower or baking.

The way new goals and habits are tested in the trenches of the January doldrums.

Utilizing my mom’s craft table, creating sparkly hearted Valentines, stirrings of bold pink, chocolate strawberries, and family love in our near future.

Waiting for answers, and knowing Either Way, We’ll be Alright.

Treasuring the most lovely gifts, our faith and our family, neither of which I deserve.

The way winter freezes time, slowly thaws it out, offering day after day to rejoice in.

What would you add about your winter?