I have needed a little sunshine.

The grey days of a Kentucky winter are getting to me. It’s the same each year, the rain, the clouds, the cold. Days are short. Darkness lasts long.

Yesterday’s prediction of snow greeted me early morning. I saw the moon out my kitchen window, a lovely surprise. I hadn’t seen it in days, weeks maybe. Then there was a real sunrise and blue skies, and despite the cold, it was beautiful outside, the world brightened.

January has been different, my usual organizing frenzy delayed. Family matters were priority, and Sweet William and I spent long hours on the road to give comfort. Really, we were the ones needing solace, the balm which comes from being with those we hold dearest to our hearts.

I become more contemplative at the beginning of a year. I seek out quiet to think; write my heart in a journal; read in hopes something will dazzle me; look to God’s Word for inspiration. Silently pray.

I’ve slowed myself these weeks since coming back home. Familiar routines guide my days. I resolve to eat from the freezer and the pantry, not running to the grocery unnecessarily.

I turned on lights throughout the house to cheer us on the sunless days, lit candles for fragrance. I cut evergreens from the yard and put in vases, a breath of nature. The book I read about Hygge (pronounced HOO-GA) told me to find pleasure in the simple things.

Finishing a book about mercy today, I determine to give mercy to others more quickly. I see that I need to give mercy to myself.

On this coldest day of winter, we have been warm, well fed, protected. I numbered my blessings in the pink spiral journal, because I must. There is much for which to give thanks.

This from Stacy J. Edwards gives me pause, dazzles me:

“Our hope comes from what we know. Not what we feel. Not what we see. Not what someone else has said.”

My perspective changes. The grey days of a Kentucky winter that are getting to me are not my end. The low-grade sadness I feel is not who I am. My hope is not in the realization that the days are getting longer and thus spring is coming.

My hope comes from what I know. And this one thing I know above all. God is love and He loves me.

Sunday grace.