From the Chaplains

There are many things I love about winter.

Hot chocolate, the crunch of frost under my feet on the grass in the early morning, big warm jumpers that wrap around me like a hug.

But sometimes I struggle with the cold and the dark.

Often by this time of year I long for that lovely feeling that comes from the gentle heat of the sun on my face, and the freedom that comes with the whispers of a summer breeze.

In those moments, when something happens to upset my usual cheer and calm, I find it much harder to shake my sadness. This could just be something simple like one of my loved ones eating the last of my favourite breakfast cereal, which is silly really. There is always something else to eat, but in the winter and the dark it feels bigger than it should be. Sometimes the darkness of the early evening comes much faster. Sometimes the dark of the night lasts longer than it should. Sometimes the wind bites and cold deep into my bones.

Jesus tells us that he is the vine and we are the branches (John 15.5), and that he is the light of the world (John 8.12). But in those moments, I wonder how this is the case when the world is a bit darker on some winter days than I would like?

I think the answer is found in the natural world. All new life begins in darkness. The vine begins with a seed. The seed, more often than not, germinates in darkness.

Strengthened and nourished by things now dark with decay, dust or compost if you like. Embryos grow into living things in wombs. Dark places deep within their biological mothers’ bodies. Their energy force giving flicker of light into the darkest places, away from our sight, often unnoticed, sometimes unknown to almost every other living thing.

And so, even though I still long for those summer breezes and the gentle kiss of the sun I have taught myself to embrace the darkness. By being intentional in this teaching, I have discovered a peace and a warmth that I previously didn’t see.

Winter has a chillier, but invigorating embrace that propels me into action and movement in the great outdoors.

Winter also encourages me to find warmth inside with those I love. 

Winter encourages me to give myself time to grow and to nurture the light inside myself so that I can embrace the spring with all the wonder of a seed that has broken out into the sunlight.

Winter is also the perfect place to light a candle of hope for all things and all people struggling to grow. If this is you, please know that the candle I light this evening as the darkness draws close is for you.

Reverend Danielle Hemsworth-Smith

College Chaplain