Seasons

I enjoy each of the seasons—at the beginning of each I am sure that one is my favorite. I love long summer days, the feeling of the sun warming my face. A crisp autumn day is perfect for a walk and baking a loaf of pumpkin bread. Short, dark winter days are cozy and restful. Bright spring flowers announce all things new.

So why is it that I hear a whisper of sadness with the first hints of the changing seasons?  This past August, as the Pacific Northwest summer days became noticeably shorter, that familiar melancholy tapped me on my shoulder. It beckoned me to turnaround, to resist moving forward. As if I have a choice. Change is in the air. And despite the joy I find in each season I am always sad when the current one starts to give way to the next. I am acutely aware that yesterday is but a memory.

 In late summertime, when hints of fall were in the air, I looked back on bygone summers:  time at the lake, the beach, vacations, unscheduled kids. Coffee and long morning talks with my husband in our porch rocking chairs. Hanging out at the pool. First days of school. How did it all go so fast? And yet, the future eagerly awaits becoming more memories. Some memories are best left in the past. Some memories bring laughter and tears. Some leave us longing to return to the way things were. Humans long for stability, consistency. We look forward to new seasons, but we know we will never go back to yesterday. Our children grow, our parents age, new seasons bring new joys and pain.

Now crisp autumn days usher in the beauty of fall. Days of summer are gone, so is the melancholy. I am fully emersed in all the wonderful things of this season:  college football, the smell of pine after the rain, the brilliant colors of the changing leaves, cozy candles, a flannel shirt, a short hike—and my newest joy—holding my tiny grandson. Any sadness in reflecting on times past is overshadowed by the joy of the season we are in.

This is a new season of life as well. I watch my first born hold his first born—tenderly placing him in his car seat, making sure the straps are just right: snug enough to protect him from harm, loose enough to provide him comfort… a delicate balance this new father will do all his life.

I watch my daughter-in-law step into motherhood with more confidence than anything she has ever done. So selflessly caring for this tiny human. She exhibits a strength I don’t think even she knew she had. But her mother knew. I have a front-row seat to this changing season of familial roles: mother becomes grandmother and daughter becomes mother. There is an unspoken illumination of the depth of love this mother/grandmother has for her daughter/mother. A grace covers former criticism or questioning.  I recognize this age-old story and it is beautiful.

The seasons come and go, always the same and always different. Some we hope will last forever, some seem to stay too long. Waiting for rain to relent to the warm sun or the short, dark winter days to give way to longer, brighter days. Wanting seasons of sadness, pain, or anxiety to end. Longing to stay in seasons of joy and contentment forever. We cannot control the movement of time, so whether we want to move on to the next or whether we are holding on tightly to the present, the seasons will change when they change. So, reflect, embrace, endure, enjoy. Write precious memories indelibly on your heart. Know that as long as you are breathing, you have a purpose. Pursue peace. Hold hope.  Treat time as the precious commodity it is. Live life without regrets. Live.

I will leave you with this passage from Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8, 11.

A Time for Everything

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity
under the heavens;
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.


He has made everything beautiful in its time.
He has also set eternity in the human heart;
yet no one can fathom what God has done
from beginning to end.

Until next time, I am Living Between the Scans.