If I were writing a book chapter, it would be titled seasons. Changing seasons. So much has been happened in our life the last 5 years, even more in the last few months. Sometimes, individual days make my head spin.
Seasons come and seasons go. I’m learning if I don’t live in the moments, I miss the season, and the next one quickly comes, and I stand there longing to go back. Unlike calendar seasons, seasons of life don’t offer a redo.
I came across a photo yesterday from 10 years ago this summer. It was our season of Spring. Our family was young. Oh, to go back to those sweet little cheeks. In heart beat. Lots of seeds sown in fresh, ripe soil.
But I can’t.
And now we’re in Summer. Some are beautiful, ideal days. Completely the best and you want to relive them. Some days the heat is on and you just want to run to the shade for respite. But if we don’t tend the tender green plants, keeping the weeds out, watering the soil so they can grow, our growing plants simply survive.
In our toiling, we are beginning to see fruit of the hard work, a glimpse of what the harvest might be.
I feel the winds of Fall coming.
The last few weeks, I’ve been reminded of the daily work in the seasons of life. Our house, new at the time of the family photo, needs tending also. We have torn down a rotten deck and replaced it with stronger, longer lasting cement.
Today, I am painting our porch. A new season for this room. It once was a play room, now it’s catch all room, and I’m looking forward to it becoming a sit-in-the-sun-with-God-and-friends room. Or respite from that hot summer sun in this season of life called the parenting years.
I’ve gotta wash down the walls and prepare it for paint, reminded that after 12 years, things age. I’m reminded that if I don’t tend the garden, the house, and my family, when they’re in the proper season, they won’t grow or last, and we’ll be left with what-should-have-been-or-could-have-been.
I want to be faithful in this season, even though it’s full of hard, messy work. So I’m off to put on my painting clothes before I paint and pull weeds today.
As I was typing, my youngest came up and gave me a hug.
Precious fruit when you’re hungry for it the most.
I may gush here a little more as I process changes coming our way. I’d love to hear about your seasons, too. Where are you? What do you struggle with as you walk through your seasons of life.
Together, we can brave the storms and celebrate the days, together.
Happy Monday for the season you are in, today.