Seasons

It’s finally here: October – the month of scarves, jeans, coffee, and warm colors perfectly balancing the suddenly cool weather. Personally, it is by far my favorite.

And yet as I say that, it is not such a simple statement to make. I find that the more I think about it, the more I find each season has something unique, something to love. Summer manifests itself in long, lazy days spent swimming and relaxing. Fall brings with it one of the greatest creations known to man: the pumpkin pie concrete. Winter holds nights of hot chocolate and cozying up by the fireplace with a good novel. And Spring has a life of its own, found in the song of the birds and the whistle of the warming breeze through the newly-green trees.

Each and every season is beautiful.

The more I think about it, the more I see my life in seasons. I’ve found myself returning to Ecclesiastes 3:

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.” 

Honesty time: I am not the best at being patient. Scratch that, I am terrible at being patient. I live for adventure, for new people, new things, new places, and waiting drives me a little crazy. I struggle with finding contentment in the monotony of every day. I struggle with waiting on God’s timing. I struggle with not wishing my last few years of being a teenager away. Goodness, I struggle.

A little while ago I was in the car with my parents and we were discussing school. In a moment of blatant honesty I divulged to them my lack of any motivation whatsoever to go to school another day. I was overwhelmed, frustrated, weary.

In my Sociology class only days earlier we had watched a video on street kids in Kenya. For the other students, it was an informative video on the daily life of a child living on the streets of Kenya. For me, it was a heart wrenching flashback to my experiences in Africa.

In the faces, giggles, and tears in the video, I was once again brought face-to-face with some of the people I love most. I was reminded of Timothy, a little boy I met in Uganda who clung to me from the second he saw me; as I prepared to leave he asked me over and over again when I would come back to see him, and I responded hugging him tightly, with whispers of, “soon.” I saw Abus, our bus driver, who spent a lot of time arguing and laughing with me over which side of the road was the “right” one to drive on. I saw Marvin. Marvin whose birthday is coming up in 11 short days. Marvin who would be turning one year older only...only he didn’t make it to see another birthday.

As soon as I stepped foot out of the classroom, the pain overwhelmed me and I began to cry, bending over to try to find some relief from the sharp ache that had found its way into my chest. The rest of the day I sat through my classes, though I don’t think one word from a teacher penetrated my mind. I was gone, in another world. Or rather, half-way across the world.

My desire to devote time to mundane tasks of factoring polynomials or diagramming sentences dropped to almost none (and I might add my next few assignment grades did, too). Why in the world was I here? Why was I spending the upwards of 8 hours at a desk learning what, to me, were useless facts I would forget in a year’s time? I was stuck, suffocating.

This was the state I was in when I confided in my parents that day. My dad turned around, looked at me squarely, and said this: “Rachel, this is not your whole life. It’s not forever. It’s just a season. A season you’ll get through.”

Yes, life happens in seasons. I don’t know why I’m here, what God is preparing me for, but I trust He is the one who brings the seasons and He has a purpose in them.

Am I going to remember most of what I am learning in two years? Maybe not. But it doesn’t matter because my hope doesn’t lie in my ability or intelligence, but in the belief that God has me where I am for a reason.

This is just a season.

I will laugh. I will find joy in the little things. I will take risks. I will be courageous and inspire others to do the same. I will choose to be happy. Because every season is beautiful in its own way.

Just as fall holds crisp leaves and warm fires and mugs of all shapes and sizes, this season holds much to treasure. It is a season of dreaming of colleges and careers, a season of family dinners and outings, a season of deepening relationships and forming new friendships.

I love how C.S. Lewis put it:

"I am sure that God keeps no one waiting unless he sees that it is good for him to wait."

There is a time for everything. Right now, it is my time to wait. So I will wait, and I will learn to be patient. 

Because every season is beautiful.