Finding Joy in Every Season: Walking with God Through Sunshine and Snow

"You will show me the path of life; in Your presence is fullness of joy; at Your right hand are pleasures forevermore."

Psalm 16:11

I sat in my usual, nearly front-row seat one sun-filled Sunday morning.

The sage green cushion beneath me was as familiar as the back of my hand. I wonder how many hundreds–if not thousands of hours–my back had rested along the gentle curve of this smooth, wooden church pew. 

As the pastor continued his sermon, he said something that caught my thoughts, sweeping them momentarily away from the familiar surroundings of my hometown church with its mint-green carpet, stained glass windows, and wooden pulpit. 

The words “delight in the Lord” took me to the fields outside my home where I’d spent so much of my time last year. 

I’d begun regular evening walks and would wander through the trees and tall grassy fields, stopping to find agates all along my path. I would dig them out of the cool earth and then hold them to the setting sun, watching them glow. 

During these walks, I sought the Lord. 

I prayed, sang worship songs, opened my heart, and spoke to Him like a friend. I began looking forward to my daily “God walks” and found such delight in them that they filled my cup, recharging my soul like nothing else could. 

I walked and worshipped, enjoying the presence of the Lord in a way I’d never known before–the joy of Him washing over me from head to toe. 

A smile crept upon my face as I sat in that old, worn-in church pew and thought fondly of those evenings when I basked in the glow of a setting sun and the incredible radiance of my Savior–and friend–and remembered the joy He brought me in those moments. 

As I gazed up at the stained-glass backdrop at the front of our church, shining behind the altar, I had a flash of thought—something that swept in, a thought not of my own. 

I delighted in it, too. 

Eyes brimming with tears and skin prickled with goosebumps, I recognized that my Heavenly Father was telling me that He enjoyed those moments just as much as I did–perhaps even more. I brought Him joy. I brought Him joy?!  I thought to myself. 

And in that realization, the joy of the Lord filled me to the bones.

"The Lord takes pleasure in those who fear Him, in those who hope in His mercy."

Psalm 147:11

God finds joy in those who trust in Him and rest in His steadfast love and mercy.

Joy When It’s Easy

I began walking sometime in the spring, relishing in the warmer days, longer stretches of daylight, and the bursts of green and yellow as new grass and yellow bells began to rise, hinting at what was to come as spring would soon enter full bloom. 

Those walks were peaceful, enjoyable, and easy. No harsh winds, brutal pouring rain, or frozen, snowy ground stood in my path. And I could meander my way through the rural fields at my leisure. 

In those walks, I found God’s presence–and the joy of spending time with Him–easy, like the familiarity of a close friend by my side. In the peaceful quiet of summer evenings, my ears enjoyed a chorus of songbirds, the buzz of insects, and the way tall pine trees sound when a gentle wind brushes through them. 

I found a pocket full of agates, picked wildflowers that grew down by the creek, pulled at the tall grass until it came freely into my hand–something to fiddle with as I walked. 

Everything about walking during those warm evenings was idyllic. 

And seeking God during those walks felt uncomplicated and straightforward. I simply had to walk outside to find His glory all around me. And the more I walked, enjoying the sights and smells of nature, the more I felt Him with me. Opening my heart to Him had never been easier. 

Along a free and open road, the sun shining warmly upon me, feeling the joy of the Lord felt easy, too.

Joy When It’s Hard

As I’ve mentioned in a previous newsletter, winter has a way of pushing me into seasonal depression. 

When spring finally rolls around and my eyes drink in the sight of fresh, green grass and flowers blooming once again, I feel as though I’ve awoken from hibernation, and my soul remembers how to dance with delight again. 

I retreat indoors during the winter and rarely enjoy winter-time activities because I do not like the cold. I’m fickle, and I get cranky, so I just prefer to stay inside when it’s very cold out. 

This year, I did something I never dared imagine I would–I joined a fitness and health challenge in January, and my commitment was to start walking 2.5 miles a day. 

I should mention that I don’t own a treadmill. 

January was a mild and warm month where I live, so my walks started out easy enough. I created a route that would get me exactly 2.5 miles a day, longer if I felt up for it. 

But when February rolled around, winter unleashed herself and brought snow, freezing cold temps, fog, brutal winds, and everything I dislike about the season.

So, still without an indoor treadmill, I wore three layers of clothing, laced up my snowboots, put on a winter beanie and the hood of both my sweatshirt and coat, sunglasses to keep out the wind, and wore a scarf around my neck and often over my face on the coldest of days. 

I walked and walked, no matter the weather. I committed to something and wasn’t going to quit it. 

Walking during the thick of winter was nothing like my spring, summer, and fall evening walks. I wasn’t frolicking through fields, scooping up agates and twiddling wildflowers between my thumbs. For the first several days, I was angrily trudging through wind and snow, nearly slipping on the ice several times. 

Surveying my familiar landscape, all covered in a frigid blanket of white, I didn’t feel the joy–or even the closeness of God–that I did when my walks were as simple as lacing up a pair of tennis shoes, putting my hair into a ponytail and skipping out the door into the warm, evening sunlight. 

But was it that He wasn’t there? Is God only found in mesmerizing sunsets, breathtaking cloud formations, the babble of a creek, or the beauty of spring flowers? 

A week into my walks, my feet felt surer, my legs stronger, and my lungs more capable. The walks, amid the stubborn winter harshness, became easier.

Along the way, within that first week of blazing a trail through the snow, my head down in frustration, dreaming of spring, something else changed. 

My heart. 

As my feet pounded the now-familiar route, my heart remembered the joy of spending time with God while walking, like a muscle that also remembered it’s role. 

As to my delight–He was there. Had been there. All along. 

I felt His presence wash over me as I whispered His name in my heart, once again inviting Him in, seeking precious time with Him, even as the wind stole my breath, and I wiggled my gloved fingers to keep them warm. 

And, amid my least-favorite time of the year, grumpy from the cold, I remembered my joy is not in the world–or the weather– but in the Lord. 

I felt His patience with me as I remembered His truth and–oh, the joy I felt! 

After that, my walks began to feel like worship again. And then, one day, while snow flurried around me, I laughed out loud with the joy I felt. What a gift it was to be moving my body, enjoying the outdoors, and spending time with God.

Who was this winter-hating woman? Where did she go? Well, she’s still here, to be honest, but the joy of the Lord makes even the dullest, coldest of winters flee in an instant. 

He is the sunshine of my soul, no matter what the day brings.

Joy—Always

When we tether our joy to favorable circumstances, it reminds me of wrapping paper. 

Wrapping paper is so pretty, but in an instant, it’s crinkled, crumbled, torn to pieces on the floor. It isn’t meant to last. 

And, as you’re likely very well aware, neither is anything of this world. 

The sun might make me happy, but what am I to do when a blanket of fog settles in during the middle of winter, the pipes freeze, and the power goes out? It’s not a fun situation to be in, but am I bereft of joy if my circumstances turn for the worst?

The world would say yes. 

But God says otherwise. 

The world shouts at us that our joy is found in spending our money, having nice things, looking a certain way, having power and prestige and so on. 

And yet all of those things are as sturdy as wrapping paper–shiny and beautiful one minute and torn to pieces the next. 

The apostle, Paul, knew this. 

How else would he have been able to pen a letter the Philippians, a letter filled with joy–all while being imprisoned in Rome. Despite being chained and facing an uncertain future, his letter overflows with joy. He doesn’t find joy in his freedom or comfort—he finds it in the Lord Himself.

We can now read his words to the early church at Philippi in the book of Philippians. 

It was in a Roman prison–likely a very terrible place to be–that he wrote the words, “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice!" (Philippians 4:4)

Paul clung to the Lord and found joy in His presence. And he knew that no prison cell could separate him from Jesus (Philippians 1:21—"For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.").

He found joy in spreading the good news–even from a prison cell. Instead of focusing on his suffering, Paul rejoiced that his imprisonment led to the spread of the Gospel (Philippians 1:12-14).

Paul learned joy through contentment. He declared that he had learned to be content in all situations—because Christ gave him strength (Philippians 4:11-13).

Paul’s story reminds us that joy in the Lord is unchanging—even when life is uncertain. His focus wasn’t on comfort or ease but on God’s faithfulness and eternal promises.

Nowhere in scripture do we find God promising us an easy life filled with endless summer–not on this side of heaven, at least.

But His promises are richer than anything we could ever find on our own, even during the most peaceful, heaven-like stroll down an empty country road.

He promises us His presence, His peace, His provision, His strength, His comfort, His rest, His unfailing love, His home for us in eternity, and yes, His joy.

The joy He offers us is Himself. We find it when we seek Him, know Him, love Him.

He isn’t a genie in a bottle, granting us things to make us happy. He is the Creator of all things, the source of life itself.

His joy is not about fleeting moments of happiness that come and go, but about a deep, unshakable peace that transcends our circumstances.

 It's a joy that sustains us through trials, a joy that anchors our souls when everything else around us feels uncertain.

God's joy isn’t dependent on what we have or don’t have, but on the unchanging truth that He is with us, He is for us, and He will never leave us.

It’s a joy rooted in His eternal love for us—a love that never fails, never fades, and never gives up.

In the midst of our struggles, when we feel weak, when we feel lost, He invites us to take joy in Him. Not because the road is easy, but because He walks it with us. His joy is found in the assurance that He is our refuge and strength, our ever-present help in times of trouble. And when we cling to that truth, when we rest in His presence, our cup truly does overflow.

This joy is not something we can manufacture; it’s a gift from God, a byproduct of a heart fully surrendered to Him. 

And when we experience it, we are able to face whatever comes our way with hope, strength, and a deep-seated peace, knowing that in the end, He is all we truly need.

So, whether you walk easily under the warmth of the sun or trudge through snow, your head bent to a harsh wind–let Him be your joy, always.