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.
~Christina Rossetti
Have you ever felt the biting chill of a “bleak midwinter” in your own life? It’s that time, isn’t it? Not just the calendar season, but that deeper feeling when the joy seems to have faded, and a heavy stillness settles in. While “In the Bleak Midwinter” is often sung as a Christmas carol, its somber tones can feel out of sync with the forced cheer of the holiday season. But now, removed from the festive rush, as the initial wonder of winter snow melts into the gray reality of long days and short sunlight, the stark, iron-hard truth of midwinter resonates deeply.
Looking out the window, the world can appear paused, muted. The vibrant energy of warmer months is replaced by a quiet stillness. The playground stands deserted, the trees are bare, and even the sounds of life seem hushed. Yet, amidst this outward stillness, there can be an unexpected undercurrent of gratitude. For some, winter is simply the season outside their windows. But for others, winter has settled within their hearts.
Perhaps you recognize this feeling. That heavy cloak of darkness that descends, seemingly without clear cause. It might be a recurring visitor, a familiar pattern in the rhythm of life. Pinpointing the exact source can be elusive. Is it the weight of responsibilities, the strain of relationships, the weariness of daily battles, or a deeper, undefinable melancholy?
The reasons can be varied and complex, but the symptoms are often similar: a dulling of joy, a heavy spirit, a sense of being disconnected even from the things and people you cherish most. It’s a feeling of your inner song fading, leaving behind a disquieting silence.
The Universal Song Within: Why We’re Meant to Sing
“There is a song that Jesus gave me . . .” This sentiment, though from a traditional hymn, captures a profound truth: human beings are inherently musical, and faith amplifies this innate capacity for song. Throughout scripture, God’s people are depicted as people of song. Think of Exodus 15:1–2, a powerful declaration of faith and victory. After the miraculous crossing of the Red Sea and the defeat of the Egyptian army, Moses and the Israelites burst into song: “I will sing to the LORD, for he has triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea. The LORD is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation.” Song is not just an expression of joy, but a fundamental response to God’s presence and power.
The Psalms are replete with calls to sing. Psalm 33:3 urges, “Sing to him a new song; play skillfully on the strings, with loud shouts.” Colossians 3:16 further instructs us to “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.” These aren’t gentle suggestions; they are commands, highlighting the vital role of song in our spiritual lives.
Consider the wisdom of spiritual leaders who have recognized this deep connection. The absence of song in the heart can be a significant indicator. If your inner life feels devoid of melody, it’s a signal to examine what might be amiss. That inner silence can be a stark contrast to outward appearances, masking a deeper spiritual or emotional struggle.
When Silence Speaks: Recognizing a Songless Heart
In this bleak midwinter of life, what could be silencing your song? Is it the crushing weight of a troubled marriage, the agonizing worry of a wayward child, the fear that accompanies a daunting health diagnosis? Perhaps it’s the sheer exhaustion of daily life, the relentless demands that leave you feeling depleted and “done.” Are you navigating a seemingly endless trial, feeling buried under layers of difficulty, like “snow on snow, snow on snow”?
If this resonates, know that you are not alone. The Bible, while filled with songs of joy and triumph, also acknowledges the reality of singing in the darkness. It’s easy to assume that biblical songs were solely born from mountaintop experiences, moments of victory and celebration. But scripture reveals a different story.
Consider these powerful examples:
- Paul and Silas: Imprisoned, unjustly accused, and physically bound, they didn’t succumb to despair. Acts 16:25 recounts, “About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them.” From the depths of a prison cell, they found a song.
- Jesus Himself: Facing unimaginable suffering, betrayal, and the weight of the world’s sin, Jesus, in Matthew 26:30, “And when they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.” Knowing the immense darkness that awaited Him, Jesus sang.
If Jesus could face the cross with a hymn on His lips, there is profound hope for us to find our song amidst our own, often lesser, trials. Romans 8:29 reminds us that we are being conformed to His image, and singing through suffering is part of that transformative process. But how do we practically rediscover our song in the bleak midwinter?
Midwinter Melodies: Lessons from “In the Bleak Midwinter” Lyrics
The very carol that paints a picture of bleakness also offers subtle remedies for a cold, iron heart. Let’s delve deeper into the verses of “In the Bleak Midwinter” to find guidance:
Our God, heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.
The Lesson: Perspective and Eternity. These lines powerfully remind us of the temporary nature of our earthly struggles. Our trials, however heavy, are finite when viewed against the backdrop of eternity. God, who is beyond the grasp of even heaven and earth, willingly entered our world in the humblest of circumstances – a stable. This contrast provides perspective. He is coming again to reign, and this present darkness is not the final word.
Enough for Him, Whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, Whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.
The Lesson: Contentment and Trust. Jesus, deserving of all heavenly adoration, was content with the simple, even meager, provisions of His earthly arrival. A manger, hay, and a mother’s love were “enough.” This speaks volumes about contentment in all circumstances. He trusted His Father’s plan implicitly, in every stage of life, from birth to death. We too, can learn to trust in God’s plan, finding contentment even when our surroundings feel sparse or challenging.
Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshiped the beloved with a kiss.
The Lesson: Focus and Worship. Amidst the potential grandeur of the nativity scene – angels, archangels, heavenly beings – the focus narrows to Mary’s intimate act of worship. She, in her “maiden bliss,” worshipped her newborn King with a kiss. Regardless of the scale of our trials, we are called to a singular, focused worship of Christ. Directing our gaze to Him, even in the midst of chaos, is crucial.
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.
The Lesson: Action and Heartfelt Offering. This final verse is a powerful call to action, even from a place of perceived inadequacy. The narrator feels “poor,” as if having nothing of value to offer. Yet, the ultimate offering is not material wealth or grand gestures, but the heart itself. Even in our bleakest moments, we have something to give – our hearts, surrendered to God. And this surrender is an active step, a choice to engage with God even when we feel empty.
This call to “just do something” is profoundly important, especially in the “School of Darkness and Depression.” When overwhelmed, inertia can be paralyzing. Feeling insignificant, having “nothing to give,” can trap us in passivity. But even in that state of perceived emptiness, there are practical steps we can take right now to begin regaining our song. This isn’t about lofty pronouncements from a distance, but, as a familiar song beautifully puts it, “It’s one beggarman to another beggarman saying I know where there’s Bread.” We are all beggars before God, and there is bread – spiritual sustenance – available even in the bleak midwinter.
Five Practical Steps to Reclaim Your Song, Starting Now
1. Immerse Yourself in Scripture: Open Your Bible and Read.
This is foundational. When your heart feels desolate, the Word of God is not just helpful, it is essential. It is the “only salve” for a despairing heart. There’s no magic formula of specific verses, because Gospel hope permeates every page. If you feel lost, Psalm 34:18 is a powerful starting point: “The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” Let the words of Scripture wash over you, speak to you, and begin to reshape your perspective.
2. Flood Your Ears with Truth: Listen to Songs and Sermons.
Surround yourself with sound that nourishes your soul. Good Christian music, sermon recordings, and podcasts like Revive Our Hearts become invaluable allies in seasons of “songlessness.” These resources act as anchors, keeping your thought life tethered to truth. It becomes challenging to simultaneously dwell on lies and listen to truth-filled content. Use these tools proactively to cultivate a soundscape of hope and faith.
3. Extend Your Hand Outward: Serve Someone Else.
Counterintuitively, giving to others when you feel depleted can be deeply restorative. The world often prioritizes self-care to the exclusion of outward focus, but Scripture offers a different paradigm. Drawing strength from the Lord, we can give even when we feel empty. Jesus consistently modeled this. Serving others shifts our focus away from our internal struggles and creates a positive feedback loop, benefiting both giver and receiver.
4. Reach Out and Ask for Support: Don’t Go It Alone.
This is an action you can take immediately. Pick up your phone, send a message – connect with someone. It could be a trusted friend, your spouse, a mentor, anyone in your support network. Let them know you are in a dark place. Ask for prayer, for accountability in your thought life. Process your situation with someone else, filtering your thoughts through the lens of Scripture. Isolation amplifies darkness; connection brings light.
5. Sing Even When You Don’t Feel Like It: Exercise Your Faith Through Song.
Sing to the Lord. Even if it feels forced, even if the emotions aren’t there initially. The world prioritizes feelings as the precursor to action, but Scripture reveals the deceitfulness of our hearts and the unreliability of our feelings. Choose to sing by faith, trusting that expressing praise, even when you don’t “feel” it, can realign your heart with truth.
Weaponizing Worship: Ambushing Darkness with Song
The “song in your heart” is not just a pleasant sentiment; it’s a potent spiritual weapon. As John Piper powerfully stated in a message titled “Ambushing Satan with Song”:
I promise you [singing] will bring a new power to your fight of faith. Satan cannot bear the singing of the saints. You can drive him away with song. And don’t fall for his lie that you can’t sing. Everybody can sing. Not everybody can perform. Not everybody can lead. Not everybody can read music or even stay on the right keys. But everybody can sing to God.
Don’t resign yourself to living another moment without your song. Take action now to reclaim your joy, to rediscover the harmony within. What step will you take today to move towards the light? How can we support you in finding your song again?
*Editor’s Note:**This article, originally published by Revive Our Hearts in 2015, remains relevant as we navigate the lingering effects of winter, both literal and metaphorical. For further encouragement and practical insights, we invite you to explore resources from Revive Our Hearts and connect with a community of faith.*
