Niagara Falls has frozen over. The cold has come. The ice has penetrated to the innermost depths. What was free flowing is now still – brought to a halt. No longer shifting, moving, flowing—but still. Peace has come. Dancing waters are always beautiful, but there is a time for quiet: a time to meditate, to focus, to look deep inside. Stillness reveals what movement hides. The quiet reveals a deeper understanding. The weight of the ice makes the ground shudder: for another time of stillness has come. Another time to meditate. What has happened since the last frozen period? How long has it been? How many trees have continued to grow? How many have fallen? How has the landscape changed since the last deep sleep? How has my heart’s landscape changed since the last deep rest? How new are these wonderful presents from the Father?

And yet, after the frozen stillness comes spring. The ice will break. The frozen stillness will be no more. Waters will once again dance upon the rocks. Trees will bend in the wind. Spring will come in all its joyful splendor and the falls will flow freely, perhaps more joyfully, because in contrast to the stillness they once again dance. Instead of frozen silence, the roaring, moving waters are splendidly loud.

And so it is with us. There is a time and place, a season for all things. It is the experience of the frozen stillness that allows our dancing to be a joyful experience. It is the seasons of trials in which we must rest in our Father’s arms that prepare us for the most glorious of dances.