Wintering

It’s the beginning of 2026. A quick glance at my phone and I’m bombarded with a plethora of options of how I can make this new year better, be more effective with my time, more intentional with my health, more diligent and purposeful in my work…more, more, MORE!! Another quick scan through my newsfeed and there’s trouble afoot. Trump is arresting world leaders on one side of the Atlantic and trying to claim countries for the US on the other; snow across the UK is causing chaos and joy in equal measure; Israel is blocking aid; and the NHS is considering whether magic mushrooms can be prescribed for depression! We’re in interesting times indeed (how many times have we said that in past 10 years!), learning to navigate these times and remain hopefully and rooted in God is crucial.

For many years now, I have fought to avoid falling to the temptation of running headlong into the new year, guns blazing! Instead, I enter in slowly. Creation around me still sleeps, roots are still being strengthened beneath our feet and boughs of the trees are yet to reveal the promise of spring. In other words, the world is still wintering…..so why shouldn’t we?

For us as a family, in this season of feasting and resting we also like to throw in a good adventure here and there. It’s soulful and life-affirming for us to be immersed in beautiful nature and within a few hours of our home in Scotland, there is no shortage of wildness.

So, this past week we took our trusty wagon north on a day trip to the hills. We ventured up the Highlands and found a little peace, some snow, and some sunshine. We revelled in the glorious landscapes and the simple joy of a good walk. With hearts alive, we ate our sandwiches next to a frozen stream and stood in silent reverence at the peaks around us! It’s subtle but a strengthening way to cultivate the roots in God – immersion in the beautiful things God made, in the company of those you love!

In his latest book ‘The Language of Rivers and Stars’, Seth Lewis offers some thoughts on this very subject:

How does the outdoors move us so deeply and have such power to make us feel more alive, more connected, more rested and content than any technology or device we’ve been able to invent – even though it is so often wild, unpredictable and threatening? Nature stirs us with sunsets, calms us with steady waves and terrifies us with power. We hear it. We feel it. We sense it communicating, and something inside of us responds naturally. Innately. Even if we don’t understand the language. This conversation – between us and the world – happens whether we want it to or not.

The art reflects the heart of the Artist. We are drawn to natural beauty because something there reminds us that beauty is central, that God is wild and true. God is grand and epic, but God is also intimate and close!

For us, natural beauty helps establish our roots in God, it speaks to the deep places of the soul and refreshes the dry and weary corners.

Where might you be sensing the invitations at the start of this year? Invitations spoken directly to your heart, that draw you close to the heart of God? These invitations, if followed, will be like roots driving their way down into good soil, enabling you to carry and display the full abundance of God that is to come. We are mighty oaks of righteousness, a display of the Lord’s splendour (Isaiah 61:3). But an oak in winter often looks a wee bit tired, bare and old. Perhaps that’s OK, just part of the cycle. The difference between the oak (and all nature) and us humans, is that we fight against the inevitable and force seasons before their right time. The oak is happy to wait, confident in the knowledge of what is to come.

So, relax people, hunker down and be intentional about resting well. All good things come in their proper time. In Scotland we have the verb, to coorie. It means to nestle in; to snuggle, it’s about comfort, warmth, log fires, hot tea and cosy vibes.

May your soul coorie into the heart of God this winter.

Blessings,

Jon

Jon Timms

Joint CEO, Rural Ministries