Around Christmastime, people all over were commenting on how mild of a winter it had been, and how there would be no picturesque “white Christmas,” which is the expected norm here in Michigan. Well then January and February came and knocked us all out of our naivety and really put us in our place. Yesterday was the 12th snow/ice day of the year for my district and my childrens’ district, and it seems like winter might never end. Last week it was a snowstorm and polar vortex that had us homebound for four out of the five weekdays. This week it was an ice storm and resulting slippery road conditions. This weather causes problems, for sure, but there is no doubt that it is beautiful. One of my friends commented on social media that she feels like she’s living in Narnia, everything glistening with icicles and frost.

I don’t know about you, but I feel the most connected with God and the most at peace when I am in nature. I think it has to do with summers spent in northern Michigan exploring the woods around my grandparents’ cabin, or always helping my grandpa in his garden. When I take in the beauty of nature, I marvel and I pause and I think and I can just breathe. What a difference from the typical warped speed of life, right?

Even during extreme weather events, like an ice storm, there is so much beauty to be found. Similarly, in the storms of life, there are positives to behold. If you look for the good mixed in among the bad, you will find it every single time. It’s like the famous Mr. Rogers quote--when he watched the news as a young child and was scared by what he saw, his mother told him to “look for the helpers.” What you focus on will greatly affect how you feel. We all see or experience dark or scary times, that’s a given. But what are we going to choose to see? Will we only complain about the bad? Or will we praise the good too?

When my extreme storm was my mother’s quick but aggressive battle with cancer and her eventual passing, the good was the friends and family who showed up, who sent lasagna, who came and swept my floors or took my children out to dinner. The calls and texts and an Edible Arrangement from someone telling me I had been a good daughter to mom and that they were praying for me.

When you’re going through the biggest losses of your life, the littlest things make a big impact on your heart.

When my extreme storm was a turbulent childhood, the good was the people God placed around me--my grandparents, my teachers, my friends. My beloved books which helped me escape to new realities.

When my extreme storm is a literal weather event, my good is a warm home, nature right outside my front door that is dripping with frozen water and light and beauty. A daughter who asks to use the camera on my phone to take pictures with me. A job in education that allows me to have the same schedule as my children.

During the ice storm, I happened to come across Isaiah 43:19, which gives us God’s declaration, “Behold, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”

I found it fitting. Sometimes we are put into a wilderness and have no clue why. It doesn’t make sense and it doesn’t sit well with our best laid plans. Everything’s gone to hell in a handbasket and we’re left reeling as to why God, why?

But.

But behold. He can make all things new.

Maybe the new thing is an actual new thing. Maybe it’s a new job, relationship, or opportunity. And sometimes, maybe the new thing God is doing in your life is simply (but also profoundly) shifting your perspective. Maybe the new thing is the opening of your eyes to the good in the middle of the bad...the skill that helps you find the helpers...the icicles...the beauty.

Whatever you are going through right now, whatever storm you are smack dab in the middle of, remember that you are loved and you are worth fighting for during the storm. The wild weather is making you stronger, more resilient, more determined. There is a way being made just for you. Behold. A new thing. A path in the wilderness. Rivers in the desert. The question is, do you perceive it?