Grace-filled Seasons

Some seasons can be long and painful and may cause us to question the unquestionable. When that which is supposed to be unsinkable sinks the repercussion can feel catastrophic.

Think “Titanic” where the first reaction is denial.  If I will not consider that the ship could be flawed then I will disregard my own instincts and label myself defective.  But what if the ship is faulty?  What if the religious system has become a sinking vessel and survival requires me to jump ship?

I began to notice that a religious mindset does not foster the same gracious embrace of spiritual seasons as is commonly extended toward natural ones.  Yet every part of my life (spiritual growth, marriage, ministry, finance, social outreach, etc) undergoes the changing of the seasons – winter, spring, summer, and autumn are facts of life on every level.  Some years have more drought or pestilence than others – but I cannot make it rain or stop the locusts.  I can however, trust God in it all.

Winter is cold and uncomfortable by nature. It’s a fact – but I don’t turn on myself or question my heart because it’s snowing outside!  I allow it to be what it is – a time of physical rest and a time to rely on food that was gathered from a previous harvest. I might sit by a fire and consider past mistakes, but I will also allow the hibernation of the season to repair the damage and to prepare me for the rigors of what the upcoming springtime will demand.

Spring is an active time of implementing the quiet insight and instruction I gained in the winter.  It requires spiritual and physical energy – for it is time to plow the new ground.  The ground may be fallow and in need of great fertilization before I can even plant my first seed…but it’s okay because it is spring and my energy is renewed!  I don’t feel daunted by the task in the way that I would if I were trying to “force myself” to do in winter what was intended for me to do in spring!

If winter is cold by nature then summer is hot! It requires frequent watering and weeding of the freshly planted crop.  The crop is in danger from the heat of the day and I protect it with my focused attention. Summer requires a lot of mental vigilance but it is also when I catch the first glimpse of the fruit of my labor. The seed sprouts and gives me hope.

Autumn is harvest time! I reap the reward of the previous seasons, give thanks, eat the fruit, and store up for the winter that is surely coming again.

Allowing the seasons to be what they are is graceful.  God initiated the seasons and only He knows how long each one will last.  He isn’t asking me to live in perpetual spring.  He’s okay with winter, and drought, and flood, and locust, and the beauty of spring and summer and the changing colors of the fall.

If I don’t allow myself the experience of my own seasons then the whole cycle of my being goes off kilter.  I become susceptible to legalism and performance pressure as I try to “perform” outside of the season I am in. I may even misconstrue what I believe I hear God saying to me because of ingrained ideologies that suggest I should always be in “spring” mode.

Seasons are not criminal.   He leads into the dark and lonely place as surely as He leads into the light.  There is a time for every season under the sun.  Let’s not make “Christian promises” that we cannot keep.  He has promised to never leave us nor forsake us…but He never said we would never feel lonely or abandoned.  If He wields His sovereignty to wean us from the masses, it will feel incredibly lonesome.  The flesh remains fearful and to some degree we remain in the flesh.  We will experience its tremors…but that’s okay.  Spirit triumphs and life always conquers death.  We do not remain in any tomb too long.  The stone rolls away and resurrection occurs…again and again and again.

My beloved spoke, and said to me:
“Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grapes give a good smell. Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away! O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the cliff, let me see your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.”

Song of Songs 2:10-14 (NKJV)