It’s late into fall now. The nights are crisp and clear and cold. Even though the calendar says that winter doesn’t officially start until December 21st, here in Upstate New York we can expect it any time after October 31st. I saw the hint of a few flurries in the air today, I thought, but we’re still just toeing the line.
Tonight, though, was the first time that I’d been outside since the cold front hit, and as I stepped out onto my back deck my eyes drifted heavenwards and my breath caught in my chest. I have lived here for the majority of my life, so you would assume that I would be used to these things… that I would expect them. But God’s glory is not something I’ve found you ever “get used to.”
Oh, the stars of the winter skies.
When the air chills and the world begins to fall asleep, every day settling in for the winter… when life seems to stop. The skies clear, and the stars shine with a fervency and illumination so bright that it takes my breath away.
When the world stills. When we feel the cusp of death’s bitter chill on our necks… and we look up. It’s in those moments when we see His wonders more clearly than before. Before when the buzz and glow of life’s busyness pollutes the broader view. When we’re distracted and the air around us is thick with heat and self-centeredness, it tends to blur the horizon.
Clandestinely a soul longs for wintertime.
A time when the stars look like peepholes into paradise. Where glory is raining out through the floor of eternity. When we can sit back and marvel in awe at brilliant lights against an obsidian sky.
And if we take the winter, the time of great sleep, and use it as a time to still ourselves and look up, we will drink in beauty.
I am ready for rest. I am ready for winter skies.