In the Bleak Midwinter

ONE OF MY FAVORITE WINTER HYMNS IS “IN THE BLEAK MIDWINTER,” which is a poem by Christina Rossetti that was later set to music by the composer Gustav Holst. Even though it was originally titled “A Christmas Carol,” it’s in the Christmas section of the hymnal, we sing it during Advent and Christmas, and it talks about the newborn Jesus and His mother, it just doesn’t scream “Christmas” to me. I don’t know why.  

To me, the picture painted in this hymn is the barren, stark, grey midwinter landscape. Here in Minnesota, we should be shivering with arctic air and our grounds covered in a deep blanket of snow. But last year was one of the mildest on record with little to no snow cover around the state. Even Christmas and New Year’s felt unrecognizable because we were used to “white” ones; the holidays just felt like more cold days in a string of many. 

The trees were dead, the grass was dead, and the flowers were obviously dead. Everything around me was cold and brown, without the usual glittering icy beauty our winters bring. Events that normally brought joy and fun to our cold winter season were canceled; ice castles and sled dog races, ice fishing competitions and cross-country skiing, ice skating and sledding with friends—all put on hold.  

My local family and friends fell into two categories: either they were thrilled with the milder-than-normal temperatures and lack of snow, or they bemoaned both.  

Guess which camp I was in…  

I’ve always said, “If it’s going to be cold, it may as well be beautiful and snowy!” We still had to deal with finding coats and less-than ideal weather but without the snow forts, snow angels, or even a snowball fight.  

Last year, we were relegated to a brown, barren landscape. To me, snow on snow is the dream, my ideal for an already-cold winter. To me, the uncovered dead earth was bleakness on full display.  

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, long ago.  

There are other kinds of bleak, deeper kinds beyond frozen ground. When I see these lyrics, I find myself wondering about the bleak state of the world when Jesus entered it, walked it, lived it. We know He experienced and witnessed depravity and hardship, poverty and injustices, smarmy streetcorner preachers, and judgy neighbors. Surely the world was bleak, sullied from the Garden it once was.  

We read in Scripture that with a bite and a blind eye, darkness fell. Eden was lost forever and the world became bleak. Sometimes when I stumble on a horrifying news story, hear of another school shooting, see the division carved by an exhausting political landscape, or think about the wars happening across the globe, I am overcome in a way that feels similar to the realization of Eden’s fall. I want to crawl into bed and hide under the blankets, blocking it all out.  

But even then I couldn’t block it out of my heart, and I don’t think Jesus was ever able to either. 

Our God, heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain; Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign. In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.  

No, God sent His Son to live in it. To muck around with blue-collar workers, to live with family and the drama that accompanies it, to walk a mile in our very own shoes until His unjust death. To dirty His feet and suffer alongside the marginalized. To be forced to find beauty in a dusty, dry, barren, and bleak world that isn’t Home.  

Heaven couldn’t contain Him indeed.  

What can I give Him, poor as I am?  
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;  
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;  
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.  

And so many gave Jesus their hearts, lambs, and gifts. He was shown love by many in His life; frosty and sharp as the world could be, there was light. Jesus had dear friends, family who adored Him, and people who wanted to know Him more deeply. Even at the end, His people showed up and watched, prayed, stayed through the bleakest hour.  

It’s love that pushes us through when the bleakness of midwinter threatens to swallow us whole.  

If we look closely, we can see His beautiful face around every snow-free corner, each wintering and bare tree, and even in the brown blades of grass covering our bleak midwinter land.  

May we give Him our hearts. May He come and reign. 

 

This article was written by Anna Rendell. She works full-time for DaySpring from Minnesota, where she lives with her husband and four kids. Anna is the author of A Moment of Christmas and Pumpkin Spice for Your Soul, and she shares the good stuff of the regular, encouraging you to see the ordinary glory in your everyday. 

 

How do you find joy in the winter months? Share your thoughts and experiences in the comments below! Your insights could inspire others to see the beauty in the bleakness. For more uplifting content, visit our Devotional Library or subscribe to our Daily Devotion for a daily dose of inspiration delivered straight to your inbox!