January is a very bleak month, and February can be worse, but for other reasons.
In January, the weather is mostly grey and still. Or raining. In Washington, we’re lucky if we get snow, so mostly winter is made up of grey, and cold, and stillness. It can be rather discouraging. You get up in the mornings for work, and it’s dark out. But at least you know the days will start getting longer. Eventually.
And then you have to worry about February. February isn’t a terrible month. It’s mostly the middle of it that I don’t like remembering. It leaves a hollow emptiness in my chest. A dull ache.
January is hard because you don’t have Christmas to look forward to anymore. And suddenly you’re stuck in the wasteland of winter where you hole up with lamplight and the heater on, and just read books and try to surround yourself with coziness and color.
January rarely gives birth to anything good.
And February is a month I want to always forget.
I am the woman who weds her free-time projects, gives birth to books, and spends her time replying to people at her work that she does not in fact want to become a teacher. But what she really wants to become is something she will not often say.
That’s between her and God–the only One who keeps the flickering spark in her chest still burning.
Check out my book! A little bit of God, love, common sense, and hope for the day.
“Following Your Feet, A Young Woman’s Journey”
Page Count: 287 (Second Edition)