In the Bleak Midwinter (Evangelical Lutheran Worship 294)
1 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.
2 Heaven cannot hold him, nor earth sustain;
heav’n and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign;
in the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
the Lord God almighty, Jesus Christ.
3 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.
Text: Christina Georgina Rosetti; Music: Gustav Holst; Public Domain
Devotion
My mom died about this time of February in 2014. It sucked. My siblings (all older) had lovingly (!) derided me over the years as the “spoiled baby of the family.” They weren’t wrong. When she died, the pain was awful, though her death was by no means “untimely” (she was 90). In August, over a year later, with a few additional losses and changes, I dropped off our eldest at college and got in the car, ready to begin the thousand-mile drive home. But first—and often for weeks afterwards—came a release of pent-up bawling. It was hardly “the bleak midwinter,” and we’re past that now. Yet “frosty wind (makes) moan” deep in a person’s soul, any time, any place, regardless of latitude, hemisphere, or ambient temperatures. Tend to one another. “Bear one another’s burdens and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ (Galatians 6:2).”
Prayer
Thank you, Great Physician, for tending to us in our wintry times, transforming our grief, trauma, sadness and loss. Keep on doing so please, whether through those called to healing arts like pastors, counselors and chaplains; or any created in your very image, called “human.” Within our darkest night, kindle a fire that never dies away.* Amen.
*From Taize, “Within our darkest night” accessed at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J8BmvxqJH0g