I’ve always believed that life runs in cycles – in seasons. I heard a sermon once by a really, really good FEMALE speaker (:>) who compared different stages of life to the seasons we normally associate with nature. Spring is a new beginning, Fall is the end of something, etc… I truly bought into that philosophy. Nichole Nordeman wrote a song about it (refer to an earlier post…) I think there’s much truth to it still. But lately I’ve come to realize that there are some other seasons too.
There’s that bizarre 63 degree day in the middle of December. You know the one…where people are running around in shorts because they can – and it’s December – and it’s Indiana – and that’s just fun. And then there’s the evening in early September, even before Labor Day, that frost is predicted. People hurry around trying to cover the last of their petunias and begonias and geraniums because it isn’t quite time for mums just yet. But let’s face it, sometimes nature throws a curve ball. And sometimes so does life.
I suppose those unexpected days can be fun every now and then, but there comes a time when I’m ready for Fall. I want to break out my sweaters & sweatshirts & shut all the windows. When the temperature climbs back to 75 it ticks me off. I’m ready to move on.
I was sitting among friends the other night listening to a great little concert in a cozy little setting & just thinking. I was thinking about how life is standing still right now. It isn’t moving forward and it isn’t moving back. It’s standing still and it’s ticking me off. But there I was, among friends, listening to a great little concert, and I was missing what IS happening because I was dwelling on what isn’t. It occurred to me that those 63 degree December days are rare gifts. They’re meant to be enjoyed, not cursed. Eventually the snow will come & then the blooms & then the warmth and so on… It’s a cycle – it’s just not always smooth.
I hope I don’t look back on this particular season of my life someday and regret all I missed. I hope that instead I’ll look back on it and celebrate the lessons it taught. I hope soon I will stop dwelling on what isn’t and enjoy all that is.
