Tag Archives: December

Dear December

Image Source: FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Image Source: FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Dear December:

You and I need to have a talk, here on the eve before you consume the world.  Pull up a chair.  I’ll pour us each a glass of wine, and we can sit by the twinkling lights of our Christmas tree, melancholy Wintersong in the background.

I have been thinking long and hard on what I’d like to say to you, yet I find myself still mostly at a loss.

What can I say?  I have always embraced you, arms and heart wide open, ready to push aside the dreariness and drink in your sparkle.  No matter how weary my heart may be, you come near, and I begin to find renewed faith in miracles.  Hope raises her head once more, in spite of anything else trying to smother her fire.

But for quite some time now, I cannot say you have returned the favor.  You smile, but it never reaches your eyes.  You reach out your hand, but you never pull me near.  I begin to suspect, if it were wholly up to you, you just might consider leaving me alone in the cold, but somehow my stubborn determination to cling to childlike wonder still wears you down.

It is tempting to give up the attempt to wrap you in a lingering embrace.  The fight in me is waning after years of one intense battle after another.  Hopes for miracles have been dashed again and again, and I have cried enough tears to float a small boat.  I am tired of hope and faith and clinging to promises that have yet to come true.

Still, do you see these blossoms peering beneath the snow?  It will take more than a blanket of your ice to smother the beauty my heart believes in.  You cannot snuff out life with your chilling whispers and piercing winds.   No, December, you underestimate the resilience of a fire rekindled in the midst of broken hearts and shattered dreams.  If sparks can blaze to life even while tears fall, your blizzards are outmatched already.

So dump your ice and sleet on us.  Blow those winds that bite our bones.  I will keep my course, one foot planted in front of the other, one more step and one more day.  Perhaps your frozen heart will thaw a little, and you will choose to be more kind.  We will be here, our candles lit to welcome your warmer side.

I do not know what to expect from you this year.  {this scares me slightly. A lot.}  But go on and come; maybe one starry, frosted night at a time, you and I can sit alone and resolve our differences.  Maybe you can learn to love me again.

*This post was inspired by a prompt from Story Sessions.




Filed under Faith, Hope, Miracles, Waiting