After a spell of warm blue-sky days where snow retreated from the bare ground, temperatures suddenly plummeted. A fierce north wind followed, bringing with it fresh snow which pelted, seemingly, from every direction. Cars slowed to a crawl and a bent, lone figure battled through the squall. Moments later, enfolded by the blizzard, he disappeared.

Spring is an erratic season, changeable in its behaviour. Playing with our emotions, it lulls us into the belief that the winter has relaxed its steely hold, only to pounce with harsh coldness and bone-chilling winds brooding grey.

There is heaviness, even despair in this greyness. Certainly, after late February’s Lunar New Year Holiday, families trying to recover from their large, happy celebrations, worry over their debts. Herders know this grey despair well. Life is tough in the lean days when, unable to afford to buy additional fodder for their animals, they wait as this unpredictable stormy season picks off the weak with ease.

Children return to school, adults to work. Outwardly, all looks normal, yet beneath the surface fear hovers. Storms come, covering the sun, disorientating us, endangering hope and even our very lives.

Buffeted by the wind in the middle of my own white-out, I realise this cyclone could be dangerously destructive. How much easier it would be if I could find a place to rest until the storms passes, but there is no place. I battle on, asking God where He is in all of this. Has he abandoned me? I become aware that what I do matters. I have a responsibility here. With determination, I calm my panic, make one responsible decision and take one step forward, remembering the paradox that God has a plan to work out through all of this.

As I walk, I sense God’s presence beside me. Although my pleas to understand what is happening go unanswered, I strain to listen more closely… more silence. How will I get through this? Countless questions, not a single answer, other than the growing certainty that I am not alone. He walks besides me, just as He walks with each of us. That is enough; courage rises and I keep on walking. The snow will not bury me.

Still, I struggle, still I cannot make sense of what is happening. Shaking every bone in my body, the freezing wind loosens my grip, exposing doubts, fears, false assumptions and wrong beliefs that reside in my heart. The violent gusts even reveal my tendency to hold too tightly to God-given things, which divert my gaze from God Himself.

Storms pass, but lessons remain for me to learn. When the way was dark and I could see barely two or three metres in front of me, faith in God was the compass that kept me on course. While all around me raged, His love brought quietness to my soul, helping me again to entrust my life to Him. The pounding and lashing have moved me closer to my destination. Patience and perseverance flood my heart, allowing me to handle the storm with renewed poise. God exposed my falsehood as He continues to form the mind of Christ in me. Is this what the storms of life can work in us if we allow them to?

© copyright Gillian Newham 2023