Winter's song is stripped bare.
Like when your favorite artist releases an acoustic version of your favorite song. I don't know if you're like me, but I'm not generally a fan of the acoustic version. I like my music full. Give me a full band or orchestra and I'm a happy girl. But sometimes stripped down is what I need. Sometimes the viola, while beautiful, competes with the lyrics and I wind up enjoying the music and missing the message of the song.
I want more. I want more than just a piano and an unfiltered voice. I want drums and brass and a children's choir to come in on the bridge and build the song until I'm caught up in the music and swept away in its rhythm.
That's not where I am in this season of life, I'm in the season of winter, stripped bare and hushed. I feel bored. Longing for more. I want to be caught up in something big. I want to clap and dance and sing. Yet, life is quiet for me right now. Everything is still. The stage is cleared and the musicians have left and there's nothing but a faint melody in the distance.
My natural instinct is to chase the music. To go find adventure. And if I can't find it, to create it. I want to rush through winter's song and chase after the fullness of spring. I want more. I want different. I want what's next.
Here's the problem... where I am right now, this stripped down, quiet place, is an answered prayer. Last fall I cried out to God and asked Him to clear the stage of my life and quiet all of the noise so that I could get a clearer view of Him. He answered that prayer and here I am. In this quiet place, and I have to confess, I'm not enjoying myself. For the girl who loves busy and full and adventure, this quiet season is quite uncomfortable.
Yet, I know there is purpose here. I know there is meaning in the message of winter's song.
In Isaiah 30 God says to His children "‘In repentance and rest you will be saved, in quietness and trust is your strength.' But you were not willing, and you said, ‘No, for we will flee on horses'"
That is just how I feel. I'd rather flee on horses and chase after the next adventure than sit in repentance and quietness and trust. But it is in quiet places that we see God.
"The Lord longs to be gracious to you, and therefore He waits on high to have compassion on you. For the Lord is a God of justice; how blessed are all those who long for Him." Isa. 30:18
He waits for me. He waits to show me compassion. And here I am longing for "next", instead of longing for Him. Instead of waiting for Him to sing me the song of winter, stripped of all distractions and diversions.
This song (below) was my prayer last fall; it's still my prayer today. I just needed to be reminded that there is purpose in every season. That even here in winter's quiet He still sings over us.
Hushed and listening.