darkness

It is cold and dark.  All the time, this time of year.  I get up in the dark and rush to get the heaters and fireplace turned on.  It is gray on the way to work.  The sun is setting by the time we head home.  The house has been empty all day and is cold.  I pile on the sweatshirts trying to get warm while I do homework.

I have my winter standbys.  Hot baths that leave the bathroom mirror covered in steam.  Burying under fleece blankets with Steve, watching Hawaii 5.0.  My yearly read through of A Trip to the Beach by the Blanchards.  Dreaming of our upcoming Outer Banks Vacation.  These help a little bit. I still feel whiney about the cold and dark.

This winter I read Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor.  She has a different perspective on physical and spiritual darkness.  She draws attention to the non-sunny Bible stories.  Where Abraham, Jacob, Moses, several Josephs and others connected with God after dark.  These night time Bible stories are filled with stars, ladders, pillars of fire, and dreams.  She writes that good things happen spiritually if you aren't always demanding a light.

And then she urges us to enjoy the darkness.
"Here at the liquid edge between day and night, the difference is so unclear that there are many words for it: sundown, twilight, nightfall, dusk...According to the rabbis, the Sabbath begins when three stars are visible in the sky, in which case I am not there yet.  As it turns out, there is a lot of ground to cover between one sunset and three stars."

Steve has always loved the evening.  In the summer he will often call us all out to lay on the driveway as the day is ending.  Or sit on our porch rocking chair.    I'm a morning person.  When the sun goes down so do my spirits.  But since Christmas my new fit bit has driven me out of the house in the evening.  When Steve gets home from work we all bundle up and head out to finish my steps.  The boys will toss a neon football.  Aggie will bounce up and down with joy to be doing something exciting.  We will talk about our days and loop back and forth on our neighborhood road together.

And I have started to enjoy cold evenings in a new way.  At Barbarba Brown Taylor's urging I now look for the subtle differences in darkness.  There is not really light, kinda dark, and can't-see-the-road-ahead night.  I tell the boys "If we were inside we would call this dark, but look how much you can still see!  Look how pretty the trees are!"

Last night we finished the walk before the football game was done.  While the boys played, I laid on the driveway and stared up at the first stars. I looked for ladders and pillars.  There were none.  But I heard my boys laughing, felt Steve's warm arm around me and saw the sliver of the moon.  There on the driveway I realized that coldness and darkness are like any other problems you face.  Bundle up and meet them head on and you find they aren't as scary or awful as you were afraid they were.  You might even find them enriching your life.

Bring it on Winter. :)