Seasons and Change by Mary Folkerts

 

There is a change in the air, the morning feels a bit crisper, the smells of the ripening harvest warm in the lingering golden sun. The calendar tells me that summer is wrapping up and fall is taking its place. It doesn't ask if I am ready; it just comes when it comes.

Seasons are like that. They don't wait for our permission to shift from one to the next. They slide past whether we have had our fill or not. Where I live, seasons are usually quite recognizable when we're smack dab in the middle of them, with their snowy winters and hot summers, shy springs and colourful autumns. It's the transitions from one season to the next that can sometimes be tricky to gauge.

Life, too, has its many seasons, some soft and easy like spring, new with possibilities. Others, like winter, we resist for their harsh, unforgiving ways. But always, they come as sure as the rising sun. Some we see coming from a distance, gently, and expected. Others come in swiftly like a too-early snowstorm.

My parents received a phone call the other week, which threw them into a new season without much forewarning. They are now trying to wrap their minds around assisted living after a lifetime of independence. And oh, how we struggle with change, even in the twilight of our years! Though we have experienced change at every stage of life, it never seems to get easier!

We love what we know, even if it's difficult, because the difficult we know feels safer than the unknown. As I write, I gaze out on the corn field standing tall in the evening sun. The season of planting is long gone, and the season of growing is coming to an end. Soon, the harvest will be upon us, and lastly, the season where the soil rests. Each season for a purpose, as God has ordained it to be good.

Can we recognize each season of life as for our good? Can we see the season of waiting as beneficial to growing our reliance on God's timing? Can we view the desert season as a time when we trust God's presence, even when we can't feel it? Can we trust the God of the seasons to give us all we need in our seasons of change?

Seasons and change
like the falling leaves
and the spent flower
leave a sadness
with their
fading
beauty.

Change is hard
unfamiliar and
uncertain--
with a dirge of
lament we resist
the becoming.
“Let’s just always stay
The same!”
But without change
comes
deadness.

And what if it’s not
the end
but the beginning
of a new story,
unwritten and
unscripted?
A new season
with beauty
unexpected?

I can be sad
that it’s over
or I can smile that it happened.
I can dig in my heels
or march bravely on
into change.
Either way
it will
come.

And as the God of
the seasons
designs spring to
follow winter,
so he allows the
seasons of change
in our lives
for our growing
and becoming.

For change is the medium
in which a seed of faith
has the opportunity
to grow and
flourish
into something
beautiful.

Mary Folkerts is mom to four kids and wife to a farmer, living on the southern prairies of Alberta, where the skies are large and the sunsets stunning. She is a member of Proverbs 31 Ministries' COMPEL Writers Training, involved in church ministries and music. Mary’s blog aims to encourage and inspire women and advocate for those with Down Syndrome, as their youngest child introduced them to this extraordinary new world. For more inspiration, check out Joy in the Small Things https://maryfolkerts.com/ or connect on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/maryfolkerts/

 

Swiftly Flow the Days by Joylene M Bailey

 

Sunrise, sunset

Sunrise, sunset

Swiftly flow the days

Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers

Blossoming even as they gaze.

- Sheldon Harnick -

~~~~~

What I love about living in the country is that the seasons are amplified. From my library window I can watch a wheat field turn from baby green to rippling ripe blonde.

Every spring, we look forward to the calves and lambs and orange-red baby bison we know we'll see on our drive to the nearby town. As the season stretches on, so the babies themselves stretch and grow and change. 

Before long, big round bales of straw have replaced the wheat I saw waving in the field. Almost at once those are gone, and the field is white with deep snow, broken only by a Mama moose and her half-grown calf effortlessly skimming across it.

It is comforting to me to know that, without fail, the seasons will come and go. But watching them come and go wrenches emotions from me. Like seasons of life, I can wave goodbye and Good Riddance to a season that is going. Or, if it was an especially good one, I hang on as long as I can before moving into the next, which I can either welcome or dread.

What has captured my thoughts all my life is that things are always, always changing. Isn't that why we take photographs? We want to freeze a moment in time. But the truth is, regardless of whether we move ahead with apprehension or expectancy, we are always moving ahead. Leaving the past behind.

Children grow up, family members pass on, we move to new homes, walk ourselves and our friends through periods of heartache and hardship. Some seasons are rough, others full of contentment and joy. Some are periods of busy, hurry, purpose. Other times last forever when the waiting is excruciating. Most seasons carry sprinklings of everything, and most of us have been through them all. We rejoice and we lament.

I was captivated by the words of an elderly woman who was asked about her long life. "Some decades are hard," was her simple reply. That just about says it all.

~~~~~

You hurt and you heal, you build and release, and it's all part of the same process: it's life.

- Jennifer Healey -

healingbrave.com

~~~~~

               ~~~~~                  

It is perhaps fortunate that we can't see far enough down the path into the next season. Over the next hill, around the next bend, is the mysterious unknown. 

I keep telling people I'm in my flower era. I love anything with flowers on them. Notecards, notebooks, quilt fabric, clothing, even my purse is an explosion of flowers. I recently stopped myself before buying a pair of shoes covered in pretty flowers, thinking maybe that was taking things a little too far. And also, I don't need another pair of shoes.

But I'm also in a season of chronic pain, which, on the worst days, hangs like a cloud over all aspects of life. The focus of this year has been to try to figure things out and get some relief. I wish I could look around that bend in the path and see what the next ten years look like. More of the same? Or a totally transformed me. I can't see around the bend, however, and must trust that my Father knows the path ahead. I must put my hand in His, trust Him with the journey, and do everything I can to walk this path with joy. 

If you are in a difficult season, I pray you sense God's lovingkindness and mercy. If your life is mostly well these days, may God grant you grace, peace, and rest.

~~~~~

Some of the trees around our place are already turning colour. It seems too soon. Is Madame Autumn already here? At first, I'm shocked that summer could be gone so soon, but after a few seconds I find myself thinking of the cooler evenings ahead. I anticipate a walk through crunchy leaves, and that familiar nip in the air. I'm hopeful for the next chapter. Rather than look back, I turn towards the new season, as late summer sunflowers turn towards the sun.

~~~~~

                All the trees are losing their leaves, and not one of them is worried.

- Donald Miller -

~~~~~

All photos from Pixabay.

Joy lives with The Cowboy and their livestock (two cats and a dog) at The Cleft in lake country, Alberta. It's been a busy summer at The Cleft, full of visits from family and friends, and one very happy Corgi.

Joy writes stories for children, short stories, articles, and poetry, and is working on a longer work of fiction. Find more of her joy-infused writing at Scraps of Joy.  

Seasons of the Spirit ~ Valerie Ronald

I spent much of my life on Vancouver Island, BC, on the temperate west coast of Canada. The seasons there are less defined than other parts of the country, with rainy falls and winters blending into long, gentle springs and mild summers. Now living on the prairies, I appreciate having four defined seasons, each having distinctive traits and beauty.

“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven,” pens Solomon, the writer of Ecclesiastes (3:1). Then he lists what he perceives as the cyclical events of human life set forth in the providence of God. Birth and death, planting and uprooting, speaking and silence, war and peace˗˗all have an appointed time according to God’s purposes. “And He has made everything beautiful in its time.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11 NIV)

If there is a season for everything and a time for every purpose under heaven, then my spiritual life has seasons as well. My relationship with God is shaped more like an ever-widening circle than a straight line. This infinite curve is never static˗˗it undulates with the tides of growth and dormancy, mountaintop and valley, passion and complacency. I cannot say I enjoy every spiritual season, but I understand that each one is useful and necessary, and that God has a purpose for it.

In my spiritual fall season, I sense a need to prepare, storing up the things of God in my heart to be ready for whatever the future holds. As a farmer spends fall harvesting and storing his crops to prepare for winter, so God leads me to store up for myself treasures in heaven to strengthen me for the winters of my life. (Matt. 6:19-20) When I look back at difficulties I’ve experienced, I see that God often gave me a hunger to learn more and go deeper with Him in the time leading up to those difficulties. Fall can be cold and bleak, but it does not need to be barren when God provides abundant harvest for the soul to store up.

The world appears lifeless in the deep cold of winter, when in fact it is dormant, in an inactive state to survive adverse environmental conditions. There is purpose in dormancy, even dormancy of the soul. “Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10) If all I know when my heart is cold is that God is God, then that is enough. My soul life is in spiritual dormancy, deeply hidden, inactive, yet alive all the same. When God breathes warmth back into that minuscule spark of life, my soul stirs from its hibernation, the ice of winter begins to thaw, and it is revived.

The words spring and hope go naturally together in my mind. When spring stirs, my spirit rejoices in the resurgence of life, promising hope and continuity. Spiritual hope projects all the way to eternity, not as a possibility but as a surety, an anchor for my soul, because God’s promise in Jesus Christ is not a maybe thing. “Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful.” (Hebrews 10:23) The hope contained in the prospect of eternal life with Christ, fulfilled in His presence, gives me joy and energy, like a spring lamb bouncing around a grassy field. The surety of hope in Him removes fear of death, opening the endless possibilities of heaven.

I live in a fruitful farming area where summer is a season of fertile land bursting with crops of vegetables and grain. I never tire of seeing the abundance of provision growing on the land. A spiritual season of fruitfulness can contain many aspects, like varied rows of vegetables in a garden. There is the personal fruit of intimacy with God, the fruit of selfless labour and sacrifice, the fruit of encouraging others in their spiritual walk, the fruit of sharing the truths of God with those who don’t know Him, and the fruit of prayers offered up for loved ones, to name a few. Spiritual fruitfulness depends on staying connected to Jesus. “Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me.” (John 15:4) I know I cannot be fruitful on my own, so to bear spiritual fruit in each season I must abide in Christ, whose Spirit provides all I need.

The thing about spiritual seasons is that they always come around again, each one bringing more opportunities to discover the things God has made beautiful in His time.

See the changing of the seasons. All things change in nature; so do you and the seasons of life. Embrace change! God is there in the aridity, the new beginning, the fertility and the changing colours of life. ~ Christine Adam 

  

Valerie Ronald writes from an old roll top desk in Portage la Prairie, Manitoba, with her tortoiseshell cat for a muse. A graduate of Langara College School of Journalism, she writes devotionals, fiction, and inspirational prose. Her purpose in writing is to encourage others to grow in their spiritual walk. 

Seasons of Life: Then and Now by Alan Anderson

 

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” Ecclesiastes 3:1 (NIV)


Writing prompt: Write about a season you are currently experiencing or have experienced. How did God meet your needs during this season? How did it affect your writing life?

 

Now and Then

The seasons of our lives, the blessings and crushing challenges all make up our stories.

A couple of weeks ago, while preparing this month’s blog post, I listened to music on YouTube. Lo-and-behold I found a recent video of a new song by The Beatles, the favourite band of my youth and even today. The song’s title is Now and Then. The video is a masterpiece of today’s technological wonders.

The Now and Then video calls me back to a season in life when my beloved parents were alive and well. This was a season when I was in the grips of my high school years and determining where I fit into the world. I now look back on my younger years and ask, where did the years, the seasons, go?

Seasons Change

Life has been heavy at times and strewn with the lashes of storms amid cloud-covered seasons. Seasons when the storms of life crushed my soul, such as my two-year period of ministry burnout and the years when my father, then my mother, entered heaven.

The year 2019 brought a season of clouds, a season that lasted for two years. As one who loves nature, it was as if the clouds were at war with the sun. This was like a dark season, where trees bowed in despair and dropped their leaves in a forever winter. I viewed life as a mountain, where brambles and thorns covered the road to heaven. Such a long road. The Enemy tried to convince me God had forsaken me and left me alone.

I thank the Lord that cloudy seasons give way to seasons of warmth, where the sun breaks through. What I must also remember is that God is in the storms and I am not alone.

A Season to Write

This reality of cloudy seasons, however, allowed me to keep on writing. This was no act of valor but an expression of faith.

My mind records the year 2015 as the year my writing took flight. Our beloved Tracy Krauss asked me to write for our InScribe blog, and I have been contributing to the blog ever since. Not long after this tremendous honour, my dear friend Glynis M. Belec gave me an opportunity to contribute to a book on grief. In 2017, the publisher released the book Good Grief People.

Now, in the autumn of my life, I work at laying aside the weight and clearing the brambles of my past. In this season, I pray to God I can publish at least a couple of writing projects before my pen dries up.

Dear readers, please allow me to suggest that one’s cloudy seasons help one nurture and confirm a call to write. One can release words into the world; with prayers they help others.

When the winter of life comes upon me, I will look forward to one day knocking on heaven’s door and being ushered into the presence of God. I will then know beyond all doubt that all the seasons of life worked together for good.

Concluding Thoughts

Dear friends, we may experience seasons of life with huggable embraces while others we wish we could run from. These times, both blessing and suffering, are all part of the life God has granted to us. May we all stay faithful and endure the times, the seasons, we experience as we live this life.

Our seasons of life all lead to heaven. When we reach the place where God is, we will know this life was worth all we had to endure. Come, Lord Jesus, come!

Alan lives in a small village called Deroche, British Columbia, with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. He enjoys walking on the dike near his home with trees all around and where he finds inspiration to write. He occasionally writes articles for FellowScript Magazine and is a regular contributor to the InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship blog. Alan’s website and blog is https://scarredjoy.ca.