The hidden fruit of a frozen season

I believe there is an invitation from God to bear fruit…even in winter. Your winter season, whether literal weather or the barren circumstance you’re walking through, can actually be a season of fruitfulness.

Inspired? Create and share by tagging @DaySpringCards.

I’m by no means a winter enthusiast. I’m born and raised in Canada, where the winter lasts long, but by the time the first week of January is over, so is my “ability to winter”.

But this year was going to be different.

I was bound and determined to winter well this year. I had it all mapped out in my mind–to read novels in the evening, surrounded by the flicker of candlelight, snuggled beneath a cozy blanket. I figured if I could just romanticize winter enough, I was sure I could love it.

Yet even with my newfound attitude, I have to admit: this winter has been hard.

It’s been one grey day after another, with arctic freeze warnings coming up on my weather app more days than not. The snow is frozen on the ground, and the wind often whips cold and crisp against my face. The heavy barometric pressure makes my head and joints ache; it’s regularly the kind of cold air where it hurts to breathe. I catch myself daydreaming about a vacation in Mexico or reminding myself what the sensation of sun on my skin feels like.

To rebel against the winter blues, I’ve leaned into small rituals–cooking more, walking on the treadmill, staying hydrated. But still…I have grown tired of winter.

I wonder if you have, too.

Maybe you don’t live in a cold climate like me. But we all have winter seasons–whether they are weather outside, or storms in our souls. The winters in our life can feel seemingly endless, as if it takes everything in you just to get through another day.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how God is the Creator of winter. He’s the One who dreamed up snowflakes and icicles, blustery wind and frozen landscapes. I know God created winter on purpose, and for a purpose (even though when it hits February, I’m ready to pack up and move somewhere sunny). Often, winter is an invitation to follow nature’s lead and rest. To cease the need for producing and choose to slow down.

I’m leaning into that rest as much as I can. But there is something else stirring in my heart.

In Psalm 1 NLT, the Psalmist writes this startling line, saying that the people who delight themselves in God are “…like trees planted along the riverbank, bearing fruit each season.”

I have those last four words underlined in my Bible, and scribbled beside it says, “Each season! Even in winter!”

Do I truly believe that though? I am totally on board with bearing fruit in spring and summer and autumn. I see those seasons as fruitful. But it’s hard to get behind that when the frigid winter only feels desolate and barren.

But what if the Psalmist is right? What could it look like to bear fruit when the ground is frozen?

I believe there is an invitation from God to bear fruit…even in winter. Your winter season–whether literal weather, or the barren circumstance you’re walking through–can actually be a season of fruitfulness.

Not because of you, but because of God. Because of His Spirit in you. Because God is always up to something. Even in the frozen ground, something can still be happening beneath the surface. Scripture reminds us that God is always working…even deep beneath the surface.

What could it look like to offer this winter season to God? Instead of wishing away the days until spring, what could change if we took this winter season and told God that it’s His? What if each day, even when the day is still grey and cold and dreary, we held it up as an offering to Jesus?

I have a hunch that if we give Him our winter, He will use it–and we might be surprised by the fruit that grows…even in the cold.

A black and white portrait of DaySpring contributing author Aliza Olson.

Aliza Olson is a writer, artist and pastor who is a huge fan of telling stories. She creates content for Canada’s largest youth conference, Change Conference, and is passionate about seeing people formed into the likeness of Jesus. Find her at alizaolson.com.