When You’re Still Wintering Inside (while the world is blooming)

By Danita Jenae

I remember the first time it snowed after my husband died. It was only the first week of September, and then snow. I was so mad. How dare the earth move on when time stands still for me! My winter came shockingly and suddenly that year. And I was unprepared.

However, I eventually embraced the cold that first year after losing my beloved. I welcomed being snowed in. I welcomed canceling appointments due to inclement weather. I welcomed bundling up to walk the dog. With wonder, I often stopped to study how the smallest branches could withhold so much weight from the heavy snow. It felt like a picture of myself: withered, weathered, frail, and yet miraculously able to bear such a hefty load, without snapping. Surely, there’s more grace and strength in us than we know.

As I learned to welcome the bitter cold, somehow, it became a comfort to me. As if the world outside mirrored my heart inside. Yes, it came without warning and too soon. But with time, I accepted that my winter was what it was, and I consoled myself that the earth seemed to mourn with me.

And then it was Spring. And the world began to bloom and come to life while I was still stormy and dying inside.

What do we do when we look out the window to discover that the world is budding around us? How can we respond when azaleas blossom, neighbor kids play ball, church goers keep smiling, businesses prosper, wedding bells ring… and we’re still stuck in our own grief storm with icicles on our doorframes and snowdrifts that are too heavy to shovel aside.         

We all want the hope of redemption from everything that’s gone wrong in our lives. We all need a new beginning. A fresh start. But sometimes, our dashed hopes and squashed dreams, our trials, our losses, our sorrow… they can far outweigh and snap off any twig of springtime we might carry in our hearts.

Too often, we see blossoming around us, and it just makes the death we feel inside worse. It tempts us to lose heart and give up.

I always imagined that most suicides happened in the dead of winter, but it’s not true. I was shocked to learn that most suicides happen in the Spring. However, that’s starting to make sense to me. The incongruence is hard to reconcile— the way the warm, budding weather no longer mirrors the dark, sadness we feel inside. Suddenly, the scenery has moved on from death to new life, a resurrection that feels jarring to those who are still grieving and bleakly searching for hope. Instead of a comfort, the flowers blooming feel more like those of a funeral than of a baby shower.

While this awareness could’ve cause me to lose heart, the Lord invited me to see it from a different perspective. The awareness of wintering in spring could actually empower me. I could take comfort in knowing that I’m not the only one who is struggling with this change of the season. I could take comfort knowing there’s a solidarity in the sorrow. And I could take comfort knowing that there is a time for me to mourn, and it won’t always line up with the change of the seasons.

Perhaps we need to give our hearts permission to stay in winter as long as we need to.

It’s ok to feel winter inside when the world is blooming.

It’s ok to break down and cry.

It’s ok to tell God you feel angry.

Even right now, we can put our hands over our hearts and breathe deeply. If we feel death and winter strongly as we breathe, we can acknowledge its presence, letting it be what it is.

Then we can extend our hands open to the Lord, like an imperfect offering or a wordless prayer, giving the agony, anger, and devastation to our God who can redeem anything. Even to this day, He actively makes beauty from our ashes.

When we look outside and see new growth and fresh buds, we can let them be a gentle reminder that the heaviness of our sorrow will eventually lift. As promised in Isaiah 60:20 NLT:

 “Your sun will never set; your moon will not go down. For the LORD will be your everlasting light. Your days of mourning will come to an end.”

Just as the sun rises and sets every day, and just as springtime comes after every winter, the Lord will shine on your dark days. He will slowly and patiently draw the seeds of hope deep within you up and out. You will breathe and bloom again. So, take comfort. While your season of sorrow might be for now, it will not be forever.

Desserts will bloom, and flowers will bud again.

If this helped you find words to process your grief better, then I have much more for you, my friend. Grab my newest release When Mountains Crumble for you and a loved one today.

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What Readers Are Saying:

“As a recent widow and still very fresh in my grief, this beautiful balm of a book is so soothing. to my sad and hurting heart. Danita’s writing is filled with a raw honesty – the kind that makes you nod your head without realizing it – and she blends in wisdom with a touch of humor that is so badly needed when in the midst of grief.”

— Tricia Marchand, young widow and mom of two

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Have you found yourself grieving while the earth or the people around you are blossoming? If so, what truth can you hold on to like a comfort blanket today?