On a recent morning jog, passing through a wooded stretch, a hint of autumn washed over me. There was a slight chill to the air and a morning shower created a musky dampness, leaving the air smelling of decaying earth. An overnight windstorm had prematurely tugged leaves from their branches and scattered them along the pathway. And the heart skipped a beat as the realization hit, though still mid-August, fall lay just around the next bend. The urge pressed in to gather everything summer in my arms, squeeze them tight to my chest, and not let go. “It’s too soon. I’m not ready. It went too fast.”
Pauses in life can create the same sensation. In an unexpected moment, cruising along familiar paths, perhaps after a windstorm event, or an unexpected shower stirring up the scent of an on-coming change, we realize we’re nearing the end of our present season and sliding into the next.
And a panic begins to bubble up from the depths. “It’s too soon. I’m not ready. It went too fast.” And the questions swirl, “Did I do enough? Did I learn enough? Did I grow enough? Did I love enough?”
Moving from one season into another is hard. We meticulously plan, anticipating a soft entry into a slower, more peaceful place, but it often feels like being dumped from a train at the end of the line, staring into a scary and unfamiliar landscape, no resemblance to the picture on the travel brochure now crumpled in our hand.
After several attempts at predicting the next phase of life, we soon give up. What we think we know about the upcoming stage can leave us dumbfounded when we live the reality. Too many variables. Too many things outside our control. Too many unknowns.
We find ourselves relieved to leave the difficult responsibilities and challenges of the previous season behind; but, we are unhappy to discover the new ones awaiting us. Ones we hadn’t imagined or foreseen. We miss the comforts and routines we enjoyed back there that we weren’t able to bring into this new time. We lament what was familiar. We long for a return to the joys of that season.
But, willing participant or not, time marches on, moving us from one season into the next. As we explore the new terrain around us, we are assured of one thing. One beautiful truth.
With all the changes that come with each season, our God does not change. (Psalm 102:27) Though the terrain transforms, He is our constant. Though new challenges come our way, He remains the solid Rock on which we stand. Though conditions have altered, His unconditional love has not. His goodness and mercy continue to pursue us in this new time (Psalm 23:6). His promises do not fall away, but are firmly planted in the new landscape. Unchanging God. The same yesterday and today and forever. (Hebrews 13:8)
Lean on that truth. Whatever season you are in and whatever stage within that season (beginning, middle, or peaking around the corner at what’s next), remember you are on solid footing to face whatever comes your way with Jesus. He will lead you. Instruct you. Strengthen you. Love you. Be with you. Every minute. Every stage. Every season. Always.
Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on Unsplash
