I have been involved in a number of conversations recently where either the person I was talking to or I myself said, “I am tired of winter, the cold, the snow, and the salt on the roads making cars look dirty and then rubbing off on one’s clothes. I am tired of the dark nights and frigid mornings.” The conversation usually ended with one person saying, “Looking forward to spring!”

I went to the internet and listed the topic, “finding God in the winter doldrums”, and I was moved by what was noted:

1.    God is present in stillness, not just in bloom. As winter strips things down, with no blossoms and shorter days, Scripture reminds us to “Be still and know I am God.” When energy is low and enthusiasm thin, God often shifts from fireworks to whispers. We are invited to rest in the gift of God’s presence and listen to His whispers in our hearts.

2.    Dormancy in winter is not death. Even though it looks like nothing is alive in the plant world in winter, everything essential is happening underground. Roots deepen and strength is stored up. In our spiritual lives, it can be in one’s doldrums that we find hidden growth. Our faith matures as we are drawn to a deeper understanding of what matters in life in whatever environment we find ourselves “trusting in God.” Trusting in God creates peace and draws us to a closer relationship with our loving Creator.

3.    God will meet us where motivation runs thin. Winter doldrums can sometimes bring fatigue, loneliness, and sadness. God doesn’t wait for us to “snap out of it.” He awaits our invitation to help us. A simple, humble, winter prayer can be, “Lord I’m here. That’s all I have today.”

4.    Look for small warmth in winter, not big answers. In winter, consolation comes often in modest forms like a cup of soup, a kind word, a warm blanket. Spiritually, we can also watch for God’s help in such times: a line in Scripture that lingers, a loving memory that steadies you, the special graces received in the Holy Eucharist.

Maybe winter doldrums are not doldrums at all. Maybe they are God’s gift that forces us to slow down and know we are not alone, and to remember that we are always loved.

By: Deacon Tom Gryzbek