Resting in Winter
Finding Peace, Preparation, and Trust During Quiet Seasons
People who have never experienced an Alaskan winter often imagine it as dark, cold, and gloomy.
I used to think that too.
Yet living in Anchorage taught me something unexpected about winter.
Long before the snow reaches the city, it begins appearing on the mountains that surround us. As autumn progresses, the snowline slowly creeps lower and lower down the mountainsides. Week by week, we watch it descend, knowing winter is on its way.
Then comes the first snow.
For many of us, it is not something to dread.
It is something to celebrate.
More than once, we have climbed into our four-wheel-drive truck and driven into the mountains, traveling higher and higher until we reached the fresh snow. There is something almost magical about that first snowfall. It looks untouched, clean, and bright. The world seems quieter somehow.
The beauty of that moment is difficult to describe.
Yet I have often thought that if it snowed every day of the year, we probably would not appreciate it nearly as much.
The first snow is special because it follows another season.
Life works much the same way.
Many of life's greatest blessings become meaningful because of the seasons that came before them. Joy often feels deeper after grief. A long-awaited answer to prayer is treasured because of the waiting that preceded it. Even ordinary blessings become more precious when we have experienced their absence.
Winter teaches us to appreciate spring.
As the days grow shorter in Alaska, something else begins to happen. Long before the first snowfall arrives, many residents hang white lights outside their homes and place electric candles in their windows. Those lights often remain throughout the winter months. When the snow finally comes, it reflects both the moonlight and the warm glow of those lights, creating a beauty that is difficult to explain to someone who has never seen it.
Rather than fighting the darkness, people create light.
I have always found that meaningful.
Jesus said:
"I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." — John 8:12
Life in a fallen world includes winters of many kinds.
There are seasons of grief, disappointment, loneliness, illness, uncertainty, and waiting. None of these hardships was part of God's original purpose for humanity. Yet even in difficult seasons, the Father does not abandon His children.
Looking back, many of us can identify moments when encouragement arrived at exactly the right time. A friend called unexpectedly. A door opened that we had not seen before. Strength appeared when we thought we had reached our limit. We may never fully know how often God has guided, protected, comforted, or strengthened us along the way.
Like the lights shining through an Alaskan winter, His presence often becomes most visible when the days feel darkest.
Another thing that surprises visitors is how many Alaskans actually look forward to winter.
Summers here are wonderfully busy. The sun lingers late into the evening, gardens grow quickly, projects multiply, and outdoor adventures seem endless. By autumn, many people are ready for a quieter season.
Winter creates space.
Space for reading.
Space for hobbies.
Space for reflection.
Space for planning the projects that will begin when spring returns.
The season itself reminds us that rest is not laziness.
It is preparation.
Nature understands this.
The trees are not dead in winter.
The bulbs buried beneath the snow are not gone.
The roots are still alive.
Much of what is happening cannot be seen from the surface.
The same is often true in our lives.
There are seasons when growth seems obvious and exciting. Then there are seasons when little appears to be happening at all. We may feel as though progress has stalled. Prayers seem unanswered. Dreams remain unfinished. The future feels uncertain.
Yet God is often doing important work beneath the surface.
Not every season is meant for blooming.
Some seasons are meant for resting.
Some are meant for healing.
Some are meant for gathering strength for what comes next.
Christian maturity teaches us not to despise those quieter seasons. They are not wasted time. They are part of the journey.
And perhaps that is one of winter's greatest lessons.
Winter is not the enemy of spring.
It prepares us to appreciate it.
As we grow in the footsteps of Jesus, we learn to trust that even when little seems to be happening, God remains faithful. The world may feel frozen for a time, but winter is a season, not a destination.
And just beyond it waits the promise of renewal.
Footsteps in Practice
Create a Little Light
This week, look for a simple way to bring light into someone's life.
Write an encouraging note.
Call a friend who may be lonely.
Visit an elderly relative.
Share a meal with someone who could use company.
Small lights shine brightly during difficult seasons.
Thrive Kitchen Table
A warm shepherd's pie seems especially fitting for a chapter about winter rest. As the snow falls outside and the world grows quiet, it reminds us of the Good Shepherd who faithfully cares for His flock through every season.
Winter Shepherd's Pie
A simple, hearty meal that warms both body and spirit during the quiet season of winter.
Ingredients
1 pound ground beef
1 small onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 cups mixed vegetables (peas, carrots, and corn)
2 tablespoons flour
1 cup beef broth
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
Salt and pepper to taste
4 cups mashed potatoes
1 cup shredded cheddar cheese (optional)
Instructions
Preheat oven to 375°F.
Brown beef, onion, and garlic in a skillet. Drain excess fat.
Stir in vegetables, flour, broth, Worcestershire sauce, salt, and pepper. Simmer until slightly thickened.
Spread the mixture into a casserole dish.
Top evenly with mashed potatoes.
Sprinkle cheese on top if desired.
Bake for 25–30 minutes until hot and lightly golden.
Allow to rest for 10 minutes before serving.
Serve on a snowy evening with family, friends, and a little extra time to enjoy one another's company.
