Smack Dab...Mid-Winter

Smack Dab…Mid-Winter

Theology in the Trenches

By Kathleen Kjolhaug

 

The festivities have ground to a halt, the budget is in recoup mode, the places to go and people to see have been checked and double checked. January is officially here, and as far as I can see, it’s a long stretch till the next holiday. I’m beginning to understand why they placed Valentine’s Day where they did upon the calendar. The one who did so must have known well the need for a few flowers and chocolates to make it through till March madness.

With clouds closing in and a snowstorm in the forecast, looks like hunkering down is mandated as the warnings heed we stay put! I turn on the tree lights one more time, make a final batch of fudge, plop the left-over turkey into the left-over gravy and soon realize that is exactly how I’m feeling…left over.

The humidity is now completely out of any air remaining within the house as my hair droops in sync. Even the cheap curling iron I purchased with the left-over cash didn’t put so much as a dent in the “dippity-doo” I was hoping for. Any moisture left has been sucked dry and my skin is responding in like fashion. Getting the gears started in the car has taken jumper cables, and they say six to twelve inches of accumulated snowfall will soon bury us deep.

The snowbirds have gone south…but we aren’t among them as the cattle need fuel mid-winter as do our pocket books. So…we stay. We stay that others might come home for respite so they won’t fly the coop even though I’m ready to do just that. But since we don’t have one (a coop that is), I suppose it wouldn’t make sense to try. Maybe that’s what I’ll ask for next Christmas…a coop.  At least I’ll have somewhere to fly spur of the moment. Sounds like cheap airfare as it would be nearby and all.

So now what? I’ll tell you what. I’ve decided to feel those Christmas blues. Like the depths within the ocean, there are layers; the deeper one goes, the darker it gets. It’s a normal part of the cycle. Days get shorter and the much needed sunshine just isn’t…so I let the blues wash over me. I spend longer hours reading, longer hours going slowly from point A to point B, and longer hours dreaming about anywhere but here. Over time I begin to move up and out of the blue zone. It’s a slow climb at times, but sure enough I eventually surface.

I can feel the cycle of renewal begin. There are hints that it is in the works. Colorful magazines begin appearing around the house. Center pieces upon tables are switched out, and anything but green and red is a welcome addition to the décor. It’s part of the self care as well as the nurturing process of others who are extensions of us. It’s part of life. Experiencing these shifts by going to places within that need care and tending to is a good thing. To sit in the quiet of reflection and solace is good. It brings comfort and readies us for what lies ahead…the next season of life.

The words from Ecclesiastes 3:1 speak. “For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven…”  Amen.