Saturday, January 1, 2011

My dearest God,

Winter is my favorite season. I love to look at the dark, barren tree branches across a gray white sky. Somehow, I think, the truth of nature is best revealed in the cold, dark winter than any other season of the year. Perhaps the spiritual life is best disclosed in the cold, dark nights of the soul.

When all is colorful with an array of summer's flowering blooms, one gazes only upon the blossoms in all their radiant beauty. And why not? Yet, to observe the withered brown leavings of autumn bequeaths to me a profound sense of hope as I know the earth is being nurtured like no other time of the year. And so with the poor in spirit.

I am aware that our prayers are not so much for the joys found in loss, pain, and suffering but more for the instant blossoms that normally take weeks, months to unfold. We want to avoid the cold, the dark, and the silence grasping instead for warm, bright sunny days. But that is not what winter gives. Winter is about roots not fruits.

I love the way the new year begins and ends in winter, in the cold short days of dark silence. There is something so magnificent and mysterious in winter. And I find myself embracing my own roots, my own truths and philosophy of life. Winter is about faith for me.

As I
drink in
the gifts
of winter,
guide me,
O God,
to you,
for your will,
your plan
for my life
in this
new year.
Teach me
the lessons
I failed
to learn
in the
old year.
Return me
to your classroom
where the mysteries
of life
are taught.
Disclose to me,
I pray
the weaknesses
of my
own roots,
my fragilities,
my unwillingnesses
so I
may look up
with eyes
of faith
awaiting the promise
of new life.

Love, Andrea