Monday, March 10, 2014

Seasons Change



All is well in my world today.  It’s 75°.  Windows and curtains are wide open, and I’ve been cleaning out my refrigerator.  Not usually my most favorite task, but with spring in the air and its beautiful breezes wafting through, the most mundane of chores takes on a guise of fun and excitement.  Well, maybe not excitement… but nonetheless, it’s a good day.  Ushered in with the delightful temperatures is a sense of anticipation.  Spring is on its way.  Winter is nearly over.

This truth is exceptionally meaningful for me right now.  The past few weeks have been rough.  My brokenness has been felt in all its fullness.  Emotionally, I’ve been in a place that isn’t at all unfamiliar.  And I’ve been so irritated with myself for that!  After all, hasn’t God spoken to me about this issue or that in the past?  Shared truth with me that permeated my heart and, in another time and place, left me hope filled and expectant?  So what am I doing wrong or not doing right?  Where have I erred?  “Shoulds” and “shouldn’ts” scream at me:

“You’re just not a very good Christian!”

A week or so ago, I was in a particularly painful place.  The Tenth Avenue North song “Worn” played over and over in my head, so I pulled it up on the computer and watched the music video.  As I watched, I began to weep as the words of the song resonated with the cry of my heart.

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I wanna know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn

“God,” I prayed, “I, too, feel like I need to know that what is dead inside can be reborn.  But, God, don’t I already know that?”  Certainly I do; many times over, the very thing I knew would crush me was a catalyst for rebirth.  So why was I feeling such a need to know a truth I already knew?

As I sat crying and praying and listening, I glanced out the window.  On that particular day, snow was falling.  I happened to think, “This won’t last much longer.  It’s almost spring.”  One season changing into the next.  Happens year after year.

It’s okay.  This is a season.

As the Holy Spirit whispered that to my heart, it occurred to me that maybe the way I viewed seasons of life was a bit off.  Perhaps seasons of life are more like the four seasons of weather change than I’d ever considered.  I suppose I viewed a life season as a one-time, it’s done and over with, end of the chapter sort of a deal.  If that were the case, then my frustration would certainly be warranted.  It would mean that I’ve been in one very long season of perpetual “blah”.  But it hasn’t been perpetual.  I’ve experienced sadness that lasted a night followed by gladness in a morning.  I’ve surrendered ashes only to have them exchanged for beauty.

John 16:33 tells me that while I exist in this world, trouble will come my way.  Trouble:  tribulation; pressure; anguish; distress.  And maybe some of those troubles will be dressed up in the same clothes as a trouble I’ve already dealt with.  But I’m encouraged by this thought:  This spring is looking to be quite similar to many other springs I’ve experienced; but it’s not exactly the same because this spring has never been before.  Likewise, I may (and most likely will) come to another season of crying out to God, “I need to know that all that’s dead inside can be reborn!”  And it may feel very much like every other season of internal “deadness” I’ve experienced; but I’ll be different.  I’ll have come through more, grown more, experienced more of God’s love and grace… And it’s all okay.  It’s okay to feel what I feel right now.  Jesus told me it would come.  He also told me to take heart, because he’s overcome the world.  When I need encouragement, he’ll give it to me.  When I need reminded that it’ll be okay, he’ll remind me.  And when it feels like all is dead inside, he’ll show me a sign of life.

Oh, how he loves me!