February 2nd.

When I look out the window, it’s whiiiiiite white white. The thick snow covers all: dirt, sound, familiarity. We trudge along slow roads and what were once sidewalks. Faces and voices are muffled behind hoods and scarves…we’re just pink cheeks and blinking snow out of our eyes. “Somehow,” I muse, “there’s an analogy in this. Somehow this has meaning.” Maybe I’m too affected by environment, but I feel the winter seeping into me…the slowness (struggle?) the whiteness (purity?) the muted-ness (rest?). So I ask God for wisdom. And I read & pray & wait. And He’s using this season to gently put His finger on areas of my character that need His Spirit.

It’s not comfortable…it’s like that sensation you get when you’re brushing your teeth and you hit a sensitive spot on your gums. I want to avoid brushing there, but I have to brush there more so it’ll feel better later. I would rather avoid what He’s telling me about my speech (sarcasm, certain types of humor/hyperbole, even my favorite not-really-swear words). And my passive aggressive tendencies with conflict management (uuuugggghhhh). But I have to face these things head on instead of avoiding them.

My little season of inner struggle for purity is found in rest, oddly enough. Resting in grace. Disciplined behavior modification just doesn’t work…the answer is I can’t do it; I need the Lord to change me. The answer is I’m not going to get all mad at myself for failing; I turn to Him and keep going. The answer is that because of Jesus, I am so forgiven, so clean, so bright white….

The snow is still falling.