Winter is coming, I can feel it in my bones. The dry, unforgiving climate for vegetation is excitedly waiting to impart its doom and gloom. The sun hides its face in the early hours of evening and clouds of overcast hang their banners in the sky. Creation groans in the barren trees and fickle winds that cause a wave of dryness over the surface. 

Much like the rest of creation, my body and soul start to inherit a dormant dehydration. Life goes on, but taking steps forward are a little harder and monotony loudly rebels. Waves of grief and sadness threaten to consume my thoughts. My eyes burn from tears cried out of frustration and my heart aches for reprieve. Whispers of doubt tickle my ears and attempt to sway allegiance to someone other than the One who created me. As the whispers of lies morph into shouts of demand- I awaken from this sleepwalking state. I remember who I am. I remember who I belong to. 

I will still wrestle with the darkness that attempts to suck me in, but I am prepared for battle. Winter is coming, but I am ready to fight the war on my faith. To combat this season of dryness, I will pick up my bag of seed and sow. The soil that cradles and houses what is planted will work underground in ways I can’t see. I will allow the tears that stream down my cheeks to water the seeds- sown seeds of the promises made by One who has never broken them. I will cling tightly to the sacred book that reminds me of the new and glorified body that awaits me. 

Seasons don’t last forever, but my Savior does. One step at a time, with His breath in my lungs, I will move forward in hope. Hope for tomorrow and hope for my future. He will turn my weeping into joy and my sorrow into gladness.

“Those who sow in tears will reap with shouts of joy. Though one goes along weeping, carrying the bag of seed, he will surely come back with shouts of joy, carrying his sheaves.” Psalm 126:5-6