Winter was sublime. In those bitter months of the year, I am usually under a blanket, sipping something warm, cringing at the things beyond my drawn curtains. When I made a promise to walk in the park every day it was summer, and even then I immediately thought, Oh, it’s going to be cold. It was and I loved every single day of it.
Spring has sweetly tinted buds. Summer is lush and verdant. Autumn is painted handsomely. Winter is stark, bleak, quiet and stripped—beautifully. Perfectly. She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. Proverbs 31:25.
This winter I didn’t see a lack or an absence. I saw a magnificent, enduring presence. A completeness. Nothing was missing, not flourish nor color. The trees weren’t bare, they were essential—a force! The skies weren’t gray, they hung close, an integral, engaged sector of creation, sustaining. What death I observed emerged from the very life it instantly began to nourish. All rose from and pointed to the God of creation.
What beauty is unveiled in me when the adornments fall away? What of God more clearly observed? What more simply conveyed?
Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. 1 Peter 3:3-4
Meeting God at the Park 