Finding Light and Joy in the Changing Seasons
September is a time of change. Already the trees around Austin show hints of color, and the morning air carries a chill that reminds us summer is slipping away. Over the course of the month, we’ll lose more than 80 minutes of daylight. The days grow shorter, the nights longer, and for many of us that shift can feel like a slow slide into gloom.
But what if we could learn a different perspective?
In Scandinavia, where winters are long and dark, people have discovered ways not just to endure the season but to embrace it. They talk about hygge (Danish), koselig(Norwegian), and mys (Swedish)—words for creating warmth and coziness with candles, blankets, good food, and close company. They also practice friluftsliv, “free air life,” a way of finding joy in the outdoors no matter the weather.
Imagine that: instead of dreading the shrinking daylight and dropping temperatures, people lean into it. They light candles, gather friends, share meals, and bundle up for a walk in the crisp air. They create space for joy by focusing on light, warmth, and relationships.
That perspective has a lot to teach us. As Christians, we know that darkness doesn’t have the final word. The prophet Isaiah wrote, “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned”(Isaiah 9:2). Jesus himself said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12).
What if we allowed the darker months to remind us to look for the Light of Christ? What if we used this season as an invitation to slow down, to nurture relationships, to dress warmly and breathe the fresh air God still provides?
For me, a few practices have made a big difference. Last year I decided to leave our outside Christmas lights on throughout the winter. It may sound simple, but it was a joy to come home and see our house lit up with cheery colors in the darkness. That little bit of light lifted my spirit.
Another practice I’ve picked up—though not as regularly as I’d like—is coloring. I have a few adult coloring books that I pull out in the winter. The act of slowing down, choosing colors, and creating something beautiful helps me shift my focus and find calm.
And then there’s Teddy. Since getting a dog, I’ve had to take him on walks—usually three short ones a day. What started as a responsibility became a gift. Being outside, even for just a few minutes at a time, really helped my mood last winter. Teddy has been my unintentional teacher in friluftsliv.
Maybe your version looks different—lighting a candle when you read Scripture, inviting a friend over for coffee, or bundling up for a short walk. The details aren’t what matter. What matters is cultivating practices that remind us that even in dark seasons there is beauty, joy, and the presence of God.
Darkness doesn’t have to mean despair. It can be the pathway to a different kind of light. Just as the Scandinavian people embrace winter with warmth and joy, we too can embrace the changing season as a reminder of the deeper light and hope found in Christ.
So as the days grow shorter and the nights longer, let’s not see this as something to endure but as an opportunity to live differently—to create space for light, love, and the presence of Jesus in our lives.
