Midwinter Meditations on Scripture’s Sweet Promises
Winter’s first semester was warm, erring on the side of balmy. Albertans tentatively accepted the lingering fall weather, painfully aware they’d been fooled before by the sudden arrival of a tsunamic dump of snow or a frigid pop quiz. I realize that according to our northerly neighbours, Grande Prairie would barely qualify as remote. In my humble estimation, a stark metric for my sanity is the Northern Residence Deduction. If the government relinquishes tax money because I’m living where others won’t, then I must have an unnatural resilience for grimly dark, snowy days.
Photo by Raimond Klavins on Unsplash
The last few years, I’ve found simple comforts to help ease the lengthy winters. One year, it was the container of chocolate marshmallow squares only pulled out after the children were in bed. Another (healthier) alternative was the cooking competition finales shared over Zoom with my sister’s family. My husband and I spent a couple winter seasons rehearsing for our senior years by doing jigsaw puzzles. We’ve now graduated to quietly reading by our cozy woodstove. The warm stove has also become a central part of our morning routine. We shuffle downstairs to start the day with Scripture, prayer, and staring sleepily at the fire.
Through the Holy Spirit’s working, the morning devotion time has been a wonderful opportunity to “taste and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34:8). As I’ve pondered the sweetness of God’s words, I watch out my window as the pitch-black night slips away to the lighter shades of day. The magnificent finale paints breathtakingly fluorescent reds and pinks disappearing into the fresh, crisp morning.
The book of Revelation—the culmination of Christ’s victory—recently captured my attention. Rather than seeing only mystery and terrible judgment, I’ve been stirred by the resounding appeal to endure. I’ve been moved to tears although I’m not the only one weeping. John wept loudly because the scroll could not be opened (Revelation 5:4). But oh, the resounding victory to see the Lamb standing able, willing, and victorious to open the scroll!
Promised in the Old Testament and revealed in the New, the Redeemer who conquered sin, the devil, and death!
How I long to be a bold and victorious saint, yet I know my sinful shortcomings all too well. How can I claim to conquer when I can hardly endure my self-condemnation and temptations? How sweet the words spring up from Romans, “we are more than conquerors through him who loved us” (Romans 8:37; emphasis added). David Brainard, an early missionary struggled with much physical pain and mental anguish. “My whole soul was unspeakably bewildered and lost in myself and I knew of nothing that seemed likely to make me happy … And being that lost I became a suitable object for the compassion of Jesus Christ to be set upon, since he came “to seek and to save that which is lost” (Luke 19:10; Brainerd quoted in The Works of Jonathan Edwards Vol. 7).
Dependent on my Saviour, I rejoice that though I am weak he is strong and glorious as my Shepherd. As I rise from my comfy chair into the bleak midwinter morn, I acquire strength not my own through the sweet promises of my Lord.
