Captivated Me

“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and the fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.'” – Lewis Carroll

The friendliest birds are chirping outside. My eyes are still closed as I take advantage of a drowsy, restful start to the morning. Slowly, un-rushed, I let my eyelids flutter open and take in the still, tranquil forest view outside the picture window facing north. This time of year, the trees are mostly denuded of their leaves, allowing a special view of the uniquely adorned bark normally concealed beneath their deciduous fronds. The shadow of each tree inches slowly across the canvas as the sun rises to the southeast. The sky begins to brighten as I light the propane-fueled hot plate (there is no electricity here) and start to boil some water for coffee.

I am grateful for these days to retreat at a spiritual hermitage in the northland. Especially as a fresh, new year begins. Faith has been important – necessary, really – to my life’s journey for as long as I can remember. Every season, every trial, every joy I have lived through, I look back and see evidence of God’s presence, power, creativity, miracles, compassion, and faithfulness in ways that defy any earthly explanation. Reflecting on this past year is no exception. From the sweetness of seeing life-long dreams fulfilled, to losing a dear father-figure in my life, to navigating the pandemic and all its complexities, to witnessing some of the most awe-inspiring mountains and waters and aspects of creation I have ever seen, to opening my whole heart to love again after deep heartbreak in times past, He was there. And I am reminded of the chorus to a song I love, called “Storyteller”, that so often crosses my thoughts in times of reflection. The words – which, maybe just maybe, could apply to your story too – declare:

“The mountain where I climbed
The valley where I fell
You were there all along
That’s the story I’ll tell
You brought the pieces together
Made me this storyteller
Now I know it is well, it is well
That’s the story I’ll tell.”

The coffee is ready, and warms my hands and my heart in kind. I shed quiet tears of gratitude, healing, and forgiveness as my reverie continues. Over the course of an hour, I read a few chapters of a book I am enjoying, journal 2021 to a close, and lift my eyes again to the nature that beckons outside. I sip the last of my cup, layer myself three times over from head to toe, and waltz into the -15F outdoors. Step by step through a powdery layer of snow, my feet find the nearby hiking trail, and I cannot help but feel a tickle of anticipation. 2022 is here. And today is a wildly cold, beautiful day, ripe with wonder and possibility. I cannot wait to see what it brings.

Here’s to the stories we’ll tell about 2022 after another year of journeying this world. To the joys we will celebrate and the lessons we will learn. And to the God who walks with us through it all.