An Invitation “to Winter”
By Katie Nelson, Director of Care Ministries
In my attempt to “practice what I preach” as the Director of Care Ministries here at Chapel Hill—that flourishing comes when we heal and tend to our whole self, God, and others—I take a jog in the woods about twice a week on a regular basis. There is part of the trail that always causes me to pause. This trail is wider, framed by towering Doug firs, and it reveals the current season and the changes to come. I have been so taken by the view that I have stopped my run to take a photo of the transformation each season brings (see attached photos).
Biological life has its own natural rhythms. In winter, the trees on this trail have lost all their leaves and the hard ground I would run on has turned to mushy, sloppy mud I try to avoid. Being in the natural world which our Creator God made is a healing balm for our souls. It reminds us that we can’t control the revolution of the planet that determines the cold and wet winters here, as well as the fact that we are not nearly as old as these massive Douglas firs. “Our days on earth are like grass; like wildflowers, we bloom and die.” Psalm 103:14. We are but mortals. Nothing reminds me of this truth as much as winter.
And frankly, winter has always been my least favorite season. I come by it honestly. For the last decade my wonderful 78-year-old mother has successfully escaped the winters of Colorado in exchange for the warmth of the southern hemisphere (or somewhere close to it!). I joined her in Mexico last January. It was a warm breezy lift for my heavy heart. This year is a different story. I sense God inviting me to surrender to winter here in the place and time I live.
The wisdom of Scripture has always grounded me. The words of Ecclesiastes are not only sobering but a gentle reminder that there is indeed a season for everything in this one life we have to life:
“For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
A time to plant and a time to harvest.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
A tie to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to cry and a time to laugh.
A time to grieve and a time to dance.” (Ecclesiastes 3: 1-4)
So in this winter of 2026 as we begin a new year in Gig Harbor as a spiritual family and community, I invite you to winter with me. “To winter” is a new concept for me and I have looked to the teachings of Spiritual Director, Ruth Haley Barton.
Here are some ways we can all practice wintering from when you read these words until that spin of the earth called “Spring Equinox:”
- Winter turns us inward. With less sunlight and nice weather we are forced inside on rainy days. Similarly, with less energy turned outward we are invited to look inward into our own souls, minds, and hearts. What is really going on in there?
- Winter reminds us that we are limited creatures and we rest when we embrace our limits. There are simply not as many options to get out and get active, to picnic or sail. (There are always exceptions of those brave souls, I know). The sunlight and warmth are limited, the colors are muted, the ground is wet most of the time. The snow level is not in our control. Accept this reality and rest your bodies and souls.
- Winter welcomes us to embrace the now. Have your heard of anxiety and how it spirals many of us out of control with fear, panic, and worry? What experts tell us to do is to ground ourselves in this present moment. Set your timer for one minute and look out your window. Name three things you see, three things you hear, three things you taste, smell, and are touching with your feet and hands. This is now. It’s all we have and it is a gift! As we thank God for the gray skies, brief moments of sunshine, and high tides, our hearts and minds are formed in peace.
- As we turn inward this winter to reflect on who we are — our desires, needs, and relationships -let’s trust God in the mystery of dormancy. What does God want to birth in you this spring? We can’t will more love, patience, hope, kindness to happen by trying harder. We must surrender to the “real life hidden with Christ in God” (Col. 3:3) and trust Him as He is convicting, shaping, forming us to become more like Him. Trust Christ in your specific life and rest from striving is the invitation this winter.
Pray with me this significant prayer poem by Ted Loder:
Grant Me Your Sense of Timing
O God of all seasons and senses,
grant me your sense of timing
to submit gracefully
and rejoice quietly
in the turn of the seasons.
In this season of short days and long nights,
of grey and white and cold,
teach me the lessons of waiting:
of the snow joining the mystery
of the hunkered-down seeds
growing in their sleep
watched over by gnarled-limbed, grandparent trees
resting from autumn’s staggering energy;
of the silent, whirling earth
circling to race back home to the sun.
O God, grant me your sense of timing.
In this season of short days and long nights,
of grey and white and cold,
teach me the lessons of endings:
children growing
friends leaving
jobs concluding
stages finishing
grieving over
grudges over
blaming over
excuses over.
O God, grant me your sense of timing.
In this season of short days and long nights,
of grey and white and cold,
teach me the lessons of beginnings:
that such waitings and endings
may be a starting place,
of planting seeds
which bring to birth
what is ready to be born—
something right and just and different,
a new song,
a deeper relationship,
a fuller lover—
in the fullness of your time.
O God, grant me your sense of timing.
Katie