“If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and night wraps itself around me’
even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is as bright as the day,
for darkness is as light to you.”
-Psalm 139: 11-12
In her book, Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times, Katherine May writes:
“When November comes, I have no desire to leave the house after dark. My instinct is to hibernate the evenings away…I don’t like the way that four o’clock can feel so desolate, the air damp without the corrective force of the sun. My yoga class gets skipped and I’m reluctant to head into the night for something as insignificant as a social drink. The very thought of driving seems nightmarish – those impenetrable roads, their edges uncertain; the dance you have to perform with the full beam, flickering on and off, on and off. Far better to stay home.”
It has been two weeks since we ended daylight saving time and we are making our way toward Dec. 21: the day with the least amount of sunlight in the northern hemisphere. Though we anticipate its arrival, it still feels shocking when the sun sets at 4:30 pm. It takes some effort, mentally and physically, to adjust to the change.
This can be a difficult season of the year for many people. The lack of sunlight can affect our mood, the long hours of the night sky can feel heavy and weigh us down. With the holidays fast approaching, the absence of a loved one may be felt more acutely, we may feel a lack of energy or motivation, or experience pressure to “find our happy self” and create new opportunities or meaning.
We can give ourselves permission to use this season to find nourishment in deep retreat, joy in the beauty of winter, and encouragement in understanding life as cyclical and not linear. We can find comfort in the words of the Psalmist, “Even the darkness is not dark to you.” What feels to us like a closing-in, a shrinking of the world, is never a barrier to God’s presence. Our vision may be dimmed, our energy low, our emotions tender—but the Holy One does not lose track of us in the early night. God’s light is not dependent on the sun.
So perhaps this season can invite a gentler way of moving through our days. We can allow ourselves to rest without guilt, to feel our feelings without rushing to fix them, to honor the losses and longings that rise in the quiet hours. We can step outside on a cold night and notice how stars become visible only in the dark, how winter skies can widen our attention and slow our breath.
God’s presence is from everlasting to everlasting, from season to season.
Peace,
Pastor Beth
