Dreary Days

Dreary days.  With the time change, it gets darker earlier (around 4:15 ish).  Grey weather has made its grand entrance center stage in our lives in Vienna.  There is that old familiar chill in our flat, the one that begs to be treated by fuzzy socks and more layers of clothing.  You can tell on the faces of strangers that everyone has buckled down for the dreary days ahead.  Warmer coats, thicker scarves, and a stronger resolve hovers in the air as everyone knows that  many more months of darker, colder, wetter days lay ahead.

However, before we all need to pop a Prozac, there is the “upside” of these Dreary Days.  I’ve always been one to swim a little up stream.  Finding a reason to celebrate among the grey is an exciting challenge and one not so hard to do here!   Dreary Days mean roasted chestnut (Maroni) and Potato wedge vendors make their debut in little huts on street corners to warm your hands and make your belly happy.  Dreary Days also mean more cups of coffee in cooler cafés.  Dreary Days also mean more invitations to dinner over warm bowls of Pumpkin (Kurbis) soup.

During this beginning phase of the Dreary season, we’ve experienced a retreat with university students in a charming retreat house in the mountains, hosted a celebration for our friend, Thomas, as he complete his masters studies, watched many Alfred Hitchcock movies, popped more than enough homemade popcorn and enjoyed an entire week of no school as we celebrated fall break with the girls.  Dreary Days need not be all that … dreary … after all.

As I rest, with the perfect timing of vacation and the necessity of doing so to the aforementioned serotonin levels that are deficient in my little brain (see last week’s blog) … dreary is good.  Dreary Days seem to be such a good reminder of God’s economy.  When all is well, it’s so easy to be so … self-reliant.  Not to jump on any band wagon or stand on any proverbial soap box, but our society admires self-reliance.  Self-made men, working mothers who balance work, motherhood and extra’s, pull yourself up by the boot straps kind of people … all are elevated to super human, role models … those we should all try to imitate.  Nothing wrong with the hero models we worship … but are we worshipping the right kind of hero?

I find it so encouraging to read of Paul, and of his accounts of being weak so that Christ’s strength can be fully seen.  Funny how those attributes of Paul are sought after when we find ourselves at the end of our rope … when we are weak.  It’s hard to fully appreciate the weakness when we feel ourselves to be strong.

This morning, as I sat in my chair in my room, overlooking the other apartment building covered in vines that are flaming red, orange and yellow, reflecting the beauty of the dreary days ... sipping my coffee, reading my Bible, I felt such a great strength in being so … quiet … and so weak.  There is something beautiful and humbling in being … weak.  Weak reminds me of these, the Dreary Days.

During the highlight of summer, when my body is tan and serotonin levels are bursting at the seams from the full advantage of vitamin-D levels made incredibly high to absorbing as much sunlight as possible, dreary seems unbearable.  During the hay days of summer, when it seems unthinkable to stay bundled up in fleece and wrapped in layers, dreary seems uncomfortable.

Then, as the natural rhythm of life keeps on beating, dreary becomes somehow … natural.  What was feared and dreaded becomes … normal.

If the Dreary Days make me appreciate the summer, then I’m gonna try to let this season of “dreary” (my weakness) remind me of the grace, the peace, the strength of being a child of God.  A child that is well protected loved and cared for during summer and dreary.  My weakness is never a sign of weakness of my Father … in fact just a clearer picture of the Might I allow to go unnoticed.  I do stand amazed at the wonder … at the strength of an all-powerful God … who is delighted in my weakness.  It’s an opportunity for me to see clearer and be stronger … being more true to who He is and who I am not.  I am the child.  He is the Father.  He is God.  I am not.  Weak is strong.  Dreary is OK.

Now, if you will excuse me, I'm gonna go find my fuzzy socks, pop some more popcorn, and just sit and enjoy ... the Dreary!