Welcome to Your Winter
- Joseph Furcinitti Jr.

- Feb 15, 2016
- 3 min read
Updated: May 4
It's winter in the cold Northeastern state of Massachusetts. And here I find solace in the quiet and solitude of the Bay State's forests.
I'm walking trails where I had previously walked during summer. Familiar hidden places are now open, exposed, no longer covered by leaves. What were once secret places inviting exploration through hidden side paths are now visible from the trail I'm on. Winter has laid bare these little hideaways and stripped the off-the-beaten paths of their leafy green walls. And in this, I feel like I'm seeing where my heart is at.
My heart feels exposed. Maybe you understand what that feels like. It is no longer protected or covered by comfort and distraction. It is laid bare. Winter has a way of doing that; I mean the wintry seasons of our lives, of course.
There is beauty in the warmth and full foliage of spring and summer. But there is also beauty in the New England winters. Pure white snow covers the now exposed places. Fresh, crisp air fills the lungs. The blue sky seems bluer. But it is cold. It feels like something is missing, like there's something that should soon be visiting this cold season.
God uses the winter of our lives to expose our need; to show us where we are really at and who we truly are. There is nothing hidden before His eyes. ¹ And that's OK, because He's the God who covers; and heals. He shows us our weakness, reveals our failure, lays bare our need — not to shame us, for there is no shame in seeing our need, but to heal us. He reveals to repair. The removal of pretense from our proud hearts allows God to do His work in our lives and to ready us for the spring that is coming.
Winter is God's way of making way for the spring.
As I continue walking down the path I'm on, snow crunching under my boots, I hear the cold, dry wind blowing in the treetops. The applause is gone — there is no sound of green leaves catching the warm summer breeze, only the sound of frigid air blowing against leafless wood. The warm summer air is gone, and the green leaves with it. Winter has no applause. Our season of exposure holds no place for the "Good Job!" or the "Wow, love your ministry!" or the praise-filled words we might love to hear. There is only the reminder of how green it isn't, and how much we are in need.
And that's OK. As I've said, there is no shame in this. Spring is coming and we are being prepared for it. We are called to lay dormant with hearts holding to contentment. Allow your winter to do its work. Your spring will come. And when it does, the trees of the field will again clap for joy and the grassy acres will wave in the wind. ² Your exposed places will come to life and bring enjoyment to those around you.
And your garden will be beautiful.
References
¹ Hebrews 4:13 - Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account.
² Isaiah 55:12 - You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.



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