A dark and cold beginning

We awoke early on New Year's Day.  It was dark.  It was bitterly cold.  It didn't appear as a bright fresh beginning to a new year, but a rather bleak start.  A fine layer of snow covered the ground and trees.  All color had fled. A stark black and white scene unfolded before us, except for a pair of bold cardinals mocking the dull grey tundra.  Winter had taken hold and threatened never to depart. My excuses were already outpacing my resolutions.

Over hot strong coffee and steaming bowls of oatmeal, we were sketching out our day.  The weather was not quite as welcoming as we had anticipated.  It appeared to be a good morning to hibernate, just curl up and go back to sleep.

And then one of our friends suggested a little too cheerfully, "Let's go for a hike!"

I looked around the table. Each one of us was trying to scramble for a bonafide excuse, like trying to patch together coherent words of more than one syllable from our seven designated Scrabble tiles.  It was less than 20 degrees outside. But he wasn't kidding.

Bill agreed to go.  And slowly, one by one, like unwilling and hesitant introverts invited to a loud party, we all agreed to go.  I pushed back against my reluctance, persuading myself,  "It might be cold, but we don't have to stay out long. And despite the circumstances, you won't die."

I am old enough to realize, 90 percent of my battle is just getting out the door.

We pulled on layers over layers, searched for hats and mittens, laced up our hiking boots, and stepped  into the wild.  As the roads were slick, and the cars were encrusted with ice, we just trekked down the road right before us, and ascended the mountain on an old deeply-rutted abandoned fire road.   We had not hiked up this way through the woods in many years.  I had forgotten about it.

The leafless trees arched over us like a cathedral, the texture of the bark created intricate geometric patterns, the still-green moss stood stiff and frozen alongside the road, and the layers of rock, often invisible in other seasons, revealed the silent foundation of the forest.

After we started up the winding switchbacks, it was not so bad, so cold, or so ridiculous after all.  We climbed higher, even onward where we could not see the road ahead, and though the temperature was plummeting, we began unzipping our outer jackets and taking off hats.  The panoramic views of the iced-over valley below emerged like prophetic visions. Low clouds blanketed the barely visible farms and houses.  Not so bad?  In fact, it was a spectacular way to start the day...and the year.

And oh, what we would have missed, if we had just stayed by the fire.  We would never have known this wonder.

Help me to remember that as we march through the uncomfortable places of this new year into dimensions beyond my abilities, strength, and myopic imagination.  The months ahead may be a mystery to me, but they are not unknown to God.  The path may unexpectedly diminish into an overgrown thicket, but He always provides a way through.  Even through the scary places.  Even into the cold.

I just need to follow Him into it.

Thank God for friends who nudge me out the door and hand me courage along the way.

As iron sharpens iron,
so one person
       sharpens another.

               Proverbs 27. 17