We have had a series of beautiful days of blue sky and warmish temperatures. Because of this, I have a terrible case of Spring fever, I want the weather to continue to stay 70 degrees and sunny. And at night, a little light rain at to resurrect the trees and grass. Is that too much to ask? Many people have their favorite season, spring, summer and fall are by far the most identified as “favorite.” Hardly anyone chooses winter as the favored. Winter’s cold, wet and windy personality can be described as insufferable by the pessimist.

William A. Quayle wrote in “Headed Into Spring” from The Sanctuary, 1921: “Frankly, the trouble with winter is, it is all backbone. It is fleshless, insensate, with neither a breast to be leaned on nor a heart to love and ache and, if need be, break, nor any kindly hand to fondle and caress like a sea-wave on a sunny shore half asleep.”

I think winter gets a bum rap. After all, winter is the time for sleep, sitting by the fire, reading, resting and contemplation. It is our well-earned nap from a year of hustle and bustle. Admittedly, I do whine just a little when the temperatures dip below zero, especially when weather forecasters talk of such things as wind-chills and real feel temperatures. The season of winter, like all the seasons, mimics our spiritual lives. Winter is the Old Man, death, and suffering. It is Good Friday and Holy Saturday, it holds hope of the Resurrection. 

In his book, “The Saint’s Tragedy”, Charles Kingsley wrote: “Every winter,/When the great sun has turned his face away,/The earth goes down into a vale of grief,/And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in sables,/Leaving her wedding-garlands to decay--/Then leaps in spring to his returning kisses.”

Listening to the weather forecast for Sunday reminds us that winter is not done with us just yet. It will be cold, the wind will blow, people will be whining and lamenting, heavy coats might be donned, but have hope, resurrection is near.

As William Alexander once said: “Earth teach me to forget myself as melted snow forgets its life. Earth teach me resignation as the leaves which die in the fall. Earth teach me courage as the tree which stands all alone. Earth teach me regeneration as the seed which rises in the spring.

- Noblesville’s Teri Ditslear is a pastor whose column appears Saturdays in The Times. Contact her at pastor@rolcommunity.com, on Facebook or at www.rolcommunity.com