Today is the coldest day of the year. Schools are closed, not for celebration but for safety. In the southern states there’s a lot of snow expected. For many of us it feels like winter has overstayed its welcome. Some of us have begun to feel it not just in our bones, but in our spirits.
Northern Illinois winters can feel endless. The holidays are long past. Spring feels theoretical. And on days like today, faith can feel like waiting in the cold – trusting that warmth will come, even when you can’t feel it yet.
Scripture knows this season well. Lamentations 3:22-23 says, “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”
These words weren’t written from a place of comfort. They came from the middle of loss, grief, and devastation. They were spoken by someone who knew what it meant to endure, not to escape. Faith here isn’t denial – it’s defiant hope.
Winter teaches us that not all growth is visible. Beneath frozen ground, roots deepen. Seeds rest. Life waits. God is still at work, even when everything appears still.
The psalmist reminds us, “He heals the broken hearted and binds up their wounds… He sends out His command to the earth; His word runs swiftly.” – Psalm 147:3, 15
God’s Word still runs swiftly – even when roads are impassable and schools are closed. Even when our lives feel stalled. Even when we’re tired of waiting.
It’s Friday, not a dramatic holy day, just an ordinary one, wrapped in cold. And maybe that’s the point. Much of our faith is lived in ordinary days – ones that ask us to trust God without fireworks or answers, only presence.
If winter feels long right now for you (like it does for me), you’re not failing at faith. You’re practicing it.
Faith sometimes looks like staying inside, checking on a neighbor, lighting a candle, or whispering a prayer that says, “God, I’m still here.” It looks like believing that the same God who brings spring also walks with us through the cold.
The season will turn. The snow will melt. The light will linger again. Until then, let’s remember: God is just as faithful in the waiting as He is in the arrival. And nothing – not even the longest winter – fails outside His care.