The Winter of Our Discontent: Finding Joy in the Season

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I can close my eyes and see it: the perfect blue of an autumn sky framed by the flaring colors of maples and birches ablaze as my boys and I poked along the river road one late September day looking for wonders. If I try, I can feel the warmth of the summer sun on my bare arms as we picked buckets of blueberries in the fullness of June. And I can remember rolling down the windows one May-day as we crept up the steep mountain road to breathe in just a bit more of the sweetness of blackberry blossoms that crowned spring days in hope. But winter—ah you are much more difficult to love.

Sure there is the peace of a world blanketed in snow, there is the wonder of Christmas and the magnetism of New Year’s promises, but then there are days upon days of the darkness settling in too early, of the cold and wind being intolerable for outdoor walks and play, and the hassle of bundling everyone in layer upon layer to go anywhere at all, only to catch colds if we dare to venture out. It is easy to begrudge winter after her first charms are enjoyed.

But not this winter, and not me. I’m borrowing a notion or two from Norway, I’m mixing in an idea or two of my own, and I’m going to give it a try. This winter I refuse, yes, I refuse to let this be the “winter of our discontent.” Here’s what I’m thinking:

When I set my clock back earlier this fall, I read an article about The Norwegian Secret to Enjoying a Long Winter and I made up my mind to give it a try. While Norway has winters with some of the shortest stretches of daylight found in any habitable place, they also rank unexpectedly high in the usual surveys on gross domestic happiness. How do they beat the winter doldrums? Well, it seems that rather than resent the long winter months and dark skies, they celebrate them.

Apparently, there is a saying in Norway, “There’s no such thing as bad weather only bad clothing.” Norwegians continue to get out and enjoy winter’s charms even in those months of the year when the sun barely bothers to rise each day. Skiing, sledding, brisk walking, Norwegians keep going out despite what winter brings. So I’ve been trying it more and more. It’s hard to get a two month old out in the cold, but I’ve rallied my 2, 4, and 5 year olds for soccer scrimmages in the backyard while I let baby snooze just inside. I’ve bundled up my boys and cuddled the baby in his carrier close to my heart and said, “Let’s head for the park.” While our times outside aren’t quite as long as in other months, we come in refreshed and ready to enjoy the comforts of indoors with a new attitude.

The other idea I’m borrowing from Norway is wrapped in a word not easily translatable. The word is koselig and to Norwegians it is an idea of coziness, of warmth, not just physical but interpersonal. “It’s like the best parts of Christmas, without all the stress,” writes Laura Vanderkam. “People light candles, light fires, drink warm beverages, and sit under fuzzy blankets. There’s a community aspect to it too; it’s not just an excuse to sit on the couch watching Netflix.”

Lorelou Desjardins, a French woman living in Norway, further elucidates the concept of koselig over at her blog, Frog in the Fjord. She explains, “basically anything can (and should) be koselig: a house, a conversation, a dinner, a person. It defines something/someone /an atmosphere that makes you feel a sense of warmth very deep inside in a way that all things should be: simple and comforting.”

As I’ve thought about this more, I’ve come up with my own takeaway. What could be a better way to spend winter than by creating warmth in my own home? Candles, and fire and good music, yes, these things are nice and go a long way toward making people feel welcome. But the most important take-away for me is that winter is a time of welcoming and making others feel warmed in the light of an attentive presence. There are many other months of the year for getting out and enjoying the great green world. But the winter months lend themselves to hospitality in a special way: these are the months where others are likewise cooped up and inside more than they’d like to be, and where a friendly invitation, a good meal and a lively game or conversation can help us all weather our storms.

And of course, it doesn’t all need to be outward. Let me celebrate the quiet joys of those winter days when we are cooped up, and there is no one around but us. Can the idea of making others feel warm in my presence extend quite simply to my own? Can I make my children feel the warmth of my love in special ways on these winter days? Can I lavish extra time on them: playing that too-long game they love, going to extra lengths to make an epic fort from blankets and chairs and imagination, or setting a special candle-lit meal replete with the fine china just for them? As Susan Schaeffer writes in For the Family’s Sake, “Today, we talk a lot about how elusive self-esteem can be… but if as a child you know you are a person that matters so much that great care is put into making your meal, then you to matter to yourself properly too!” Whatever the table or food may look like, simply put, home is the place where a child first knows what it means to be welcomed, wanted and warmed.

Winter can be a time of setting another log on the marriage home-fires as well. Why not turn off the tv and snuggle up together with your spouse and a warm drink and a blanket. Welcome him back into your heart. Laugh together. Share your heart and your hopes. Many a marriage would blaze again if a little more time were put into stirring the coals with the same simple kindness, courtesy, and attention we might give a guest. Make him your guest and give him your attention. Chances are he will return the kindness by seeking your heart.

Finally, may I set the table, light the candle, and wait with expectation for the One who made the winter as well as the fall, spring and summer. May I welcome my Savior in in special ways on these long cold days, reminding Him that I lack nothing in His presence. And as we welcome Him, may we remember that we can do so because He first welcomed us. The long winter of our discontent was first broken by the light and the warmth of His love—a love that made us feel, safe, and celebrated and home when we were cold and alone, a warmth that felt like a thousand splendid summers thawing the coldness of a desolate heart.

 

Note to my dear readers: I know it’s been awhile since you’ve last heard from me. I hope you can forgive me. I promised myself when I began this blog that I wouldn’t write unless I felt I had something truly worth saying. We all get enough dribble clogging up our inboxes. And what can I say? There have been some months of writer’s drought. But I hope when you receive this you’ll feel like you’re opening a letter from an old friend you haven’t heard from in a while. I hope you’ll feel glad to hear from me again and that we can pick up where we left off. While we’re catching up, check out my about page for an updated picture of our family. One of the things that has had me busy is our beautiful Beau: baby boy number 4. Time flies… And if you are new here, I hope you’ll take a look around, check out my devotional, Waiting in Wonder and sign up to receive these posts straight to your inbox.

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