I often think that I’d be happier living in a moderate climate when I could give away my box full of winter hats, gloves and scarves. I mourn for the green picnic groves and rainbowed sails wafting by on the lake, but so far, close family ties have bound me to Pennsylvania.

This winter I’ve been more aware of the seasonal contrasts and have come to appreciate what I used to think of as winter barrenness. The half-frozen lake fascinates me as I watch geese walk gingerly along the icy edge while their buddies ride lapping ripples; seagulls manning the dock where in summer, sunbathers and fishermen place themselves strategically for a bite or a burn.

Like the landscape, I, too, am in a transition; the closing of one chapter and anticipating the next, with some fuzzy idea of where I’m heading. I feel a little like Abraham called out of Ur, away from the familiar, comfortableness of his life. Step-by-step he walked, day-after-day, toward a promise. I, too, have a promise, “…Those who seek the Lord shall not lack any good thing.” (Psalm 34:10)