It must be winter in my heart, I don’t know what the reasons are // the avett brothers
You know that feeling when your falling asleep, but no quite there? Your not sure what’s dream and reality anymore. Everything is like a blurry picture. That’s how life’s been for me this winter. Slipping by and not truly feeling awake, but seemingly quite real also. I’ve been telling myself to stop pushing everything away and to start truly living the life I want and have been desiring for so long. It’s been a long winter in my heart. But God’s been showing me my happiness should not be in my present joy, it should be in the joy I am promised one day when I meet him face-to-face. Even though it’s still terribly cold outside, I am aware of a new spring in my soul. Now, my eyes are wide open.
I’ve been aware of my weight of my sin and my weakness, which has slowly granted me a greater picture of my Savior for His power is made absolutely perfect in my weakness.
I was able to have a worship night last friday, with a bunch of my dear friends. It was cold and at one point it rained a bit, but our hearts were full of joy. It made me realize, despite our present state of faithfulness, God is always good to me. There is always a time for singing. There is always a time for praising Him. No, there is not just only a time to praise him but there is never not a time to praise him. Ah, I am so thankful for these people in my life who want to come to my house and worship God together. He is good to give them to me. I have been sick and tired of this uncertainty, but God’s been showing me I need to always sing and praise him.
For even though it may seem like a winter in every part of this world at every moment, our joy is not in this world. Our joy is in Christ. Our sadness can be turned to joy. Our depression can be turned to gladness. Our mourning can be turned to praise. Our sorrows may be turned to singing. Our winter’s shall turn into everlasting glory because “My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought! My sin, not in part but the whole is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more” // Horatio G. Spafford.