As I bundled up and headed to work this morning, I was overcome with gratitude for the gloomy, cold weather.
It hadn't started raining yet. But I knew it was coming.
Throughout the day, as I look at the falling leaves and the bare trees, I poured out my thanksgiving for this season.
A season of nakedness. A season of bareness. A season of cold and dark days, and even colder and darker nights. A season of emptyness.
The trees are bare. The ground is cold. The day is short and the night is long. The landscape is painted in shades of browns and grays.
I breathed it all in today. I found beauty in the dreariness. The blandness. The coldness. The bareness. In it all. Every last bit of it.
Something stirred in my soul. And it wouldn't let me go. I spent some time in prayer. Asking God to reveal to me what this was my heart was gnawing on.
This season of nothingness, if you will, sits on the cusp of a glorious morning. A morning when Hope entered the world. A morning when a bright Light shone in the sky. A morning when all Peace and Joy were born.
Can you see it? Through the bare trees and the cold ground and the dark sky?
It's there in the distance. The whisper of hope. Beckoning us to drink in the beauty.
As the trees are bare today, so the tree was bare that held the nail-pierced hands of our Savior.
And the bareness of that tree bore redemption for us all.
Newness is born from nothingness. Hope is found when the light chases away the darkness.
May you find beauty in the nothingness of this season. And may you drink in the hope that is Jesus.
'He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree,
that we might die to sin and live to righteousness.
By his wounds you have been healed.'
1 Peter 2: 24 (ESV)
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