Well, here we find ourselves again in January, and maybe some reflection is in order.
On the one hand, author Thomas Mann is right: “Time has no divisions to mark its passage, there is never a thunder-storm or blare of trumpets to announce the beginning of a new month or year. Even when a new century begins it is only we mortals who ring bells and fire off pistols.” So a new year? January? Big deal.
On the other hand, I’m always a little surprised when 12:01 a.m. of the new year rolls around and there’s not even any perceptible “bump” indicating that our wheels have run over a chronological curb. Even so, the seasons of the year each do have a discernible character, and I like that.
I like seasons, and I like living in a place where weather-wise, they are pretty obvious. It’s strange. I don’t tend to like change, but I like the changing seasons. I particularly like the fact that there is so very little change each year in the way that they invariably change. I like the particular character with which the Creator has endowed each season, and winter just might be my favorite.
I know nothing about Edith Sitwell, but I think she captures for me winter’s winsomeness: “Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.”
There it is: “the time for home.” I like that.
One of my sons recently reflected on the time our family had together at Christmas, and what he said delighted me and may well have been the best Christmas gift I received. He said, “You know, it was really nice to be home. You and Mom have made it a really enjoyable place to be, and that’s true for all of us, from the little ones to all the rest.” I love that, and am immensely thankful for it!
Home matters to me, and there is no place I’d rather be. Maybe that’s why I can think of nothing better (as long as the cupboard is full and there are some good books, old movies, and firewood available), than being snowed in for a few wonderful days. The only way, it seems to me, that we ever have anything much worthwhile to offer to the loud and bustling world outside is when we spend enough quiet and rich time inside, being gently reminded of who we are and Whose we are. That’s true of our homes, I think, and I believe it’s also true of our minds and our spirits.
Perhaps it’s never more true than in January. I always tend to find January depressing, scrunched up as it is right alongside of December. Granted, it starts off with a few of the twelve days of the Christmas season. It can certainly use the color. It includes my birthday and the birthdays of several family and friends I deeply love. Nonetheless, I hate it when the Christmas stuff comes down and the tax forms come in. Christmas holds so much beauty, hope, joy, and magic. Then comes January, a month that seems, unless we can get some beautiful snow (real snows are always magic), mostly designed for bloodless bureaucrats whose imaginations flat-lined sometime very early in elementary school.
But, I admit, that’s not entirely fair to January. The first month really does have some very good points and some unique wisdom. January gets its name from the Roman god Janus who was depicted on Roman coins as two-headed, looking both ways, backward and forward. He was the keeper of gates and doors.
Wisdom lies in spending the right amount of time looking in both directions. God is still the Lord of both our “coming in” and our “going out.” He is the God of all times, all seasons, both “now and for evermore” (Psalm 121:8).
You’re invited to visit my website at http://www.CurtisShelburne.com, and I hope you’ll take a look there at my new “Focus on Faith” Podcast. At the website, just click on “Podcast.” Blessings!
Copyright 2023 by Curtis K. Shelburne. Permission to copy without altering text or for monetary gain is hereby granted subject to inclusion of this copyright notice.