"This is the season for the necessity of good boots and strong coffee and soft blankets. A time before the holiday rush to breathe into the stillness, to meditate on what autumn truly is when unlit and unfiltered, still haunted, unmasked. When no cheery music is playing yet, and the only gifts are the ones that nature herself gives: life-giving rain, bright colors, heightened senses, a drawing-in." S.E. Reid.
November. The month that gets lost between holidays. October celebrates the harvest and the ancestors and buckets full of candy. December brings gifts of Advent and Incarnation and a jolly old man wearing red. In between comes a breath scented with rain, decay, and wood fires brightly burning. It is the liminal space of the past and the not yet, a place to pause and be grateful.
Grateful? The world has gone mad, divisions within both Church and State and between them grow more every day, and the cost of living is through the proverbial roof. Times are hard for many people, and winter approaches quickly. Gratitude in these days of discord and thankfulness in times of trial seems difficult, even impossible.
And yet.
Anyone reading this post likely has a roof for the cost of living to go through. Anyone reading this post probably has a small cadre of friends who know how to love even in disagreement. Anyone reading this post is clothed, warm, and dry with essentials in the pantry if not luxuries.
Paul wrote, "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me" (Philippians 4:12-13, ESV). The world was spiralizing out of control when Paul wrote, too. And still, he told the church at Philippi to rejoice always (Philippians 4:4). Rejoicing is so much more than gratitude. Surely we who sit in our homes on rainy days in November can count our blessings and name them one by one.
Guy Penrod - Count Your Blessings (Live)
And if that isn't enough, consider the Advent season that begins in two short weeks. What gift inspires gratitude more than the Incarnation?
Beautifully said, as always!
Love this: "In between comes a breath scented with rain, decay, and wood fires brightly burning. "
By the way, this post dovetails well with William Hunter Duncan's piece on happiness. Seems we're all looking for a little light in the dark here. Be well, Stephanie!