Seasons In My Life

By Joy Adams

Looking outside my window right now it is easy to see the seasons changing.  Most of the trees have turned their beautiful autumn hues and many of the leaves have already fallen to the grown leaving many trees bare. The ground is damp and the air is cold.  The transition between fall and winter is well underway and easily identifiable.  Seasons within the calendar year are easily identifiable.  In many cases, we can be shown a photo of an outdoor nature scene and correctly identify the season in which the photo was taken.

It is easy to recognize the seasons of the landscape, but what about seasons of a person’s life?

Whether we know it as the wise words of the teacher (likely King Solomon) in the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes, or the famous Byrds song, Turn! Turn! Turn! We know that:

To everything there is a season,

A time for every purpose under heaven:

A time to be born,

And a time to die;

A time to plant,

And a time to pluck 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;

A time to embrace,

And a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to gain,

And a time to lose;

A time to keep,

And a time to throw 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 of war,

And a time of peace.

…He has made everything beautiful in its time…

Ecclesiastes 3:1-11 (Emphasis Added)

We are familiar with the verse, we know the song, but do we actually know how to recognize our own seasons, let alone, the seasons of those around us?

If I had better understood how to personally read the seasons of my life, I may have been better equipped to prevent burnout within the ministry that I served in.  Not recognizing that I was transitioning from a very busy summer season of life to a less productive fall season, I pushed myself to produce the same high quality and high quantity that had been so easy during the summer season of my service.  During this transition from summer to fall in my life, my only saving grace was that I had always been taught to ‘train yourself out of a job’.  When I had pushed myself to the point that I was maxed out physically, emotionally, and spiritually, I was able to step down with some integrity, knowing that I had passed the baton, to the best of my ability.  The ministry continued, but in many ways, I did not.  I was broken, ashamed, and within me was a pain so real that at times I literally physically ached.

In school, children are taught all about the changing seasons.  Last year my son’s kindergarten class spent the whole year learning and observing the weather changes and looking to the trees for evidence of the season.  If only the individual seasons of life were as easily identifiable.  I did learn about some seasons of life, such as the seasons of childhood, young adulthood, being middle aged, and lastly elderly.  I learned about the seasons of parenthood, where a parent begins as the source of everything for their child and then through the course of childhood the child grows to be fully self-sufficient.  I knew about these seasons, but I didn’t know that I could be in the prime of my life, in my thirties and find myself first in a fall season, followed by winter.   My ignorance of the seasons of my personal life had me filled with guilt wondering where I had gone wrong.  I thought there was something wrong with me.  During my busy and productive spring and summer seasons, I had attached the gauge of my life with the gauge of my productivity.  In a healthy spring and summer someone who is doing well in life, obedient to God, and surrounded by healthy relationships, will do well in the area of production.  However the same person with the same qualities will produce very little in the fall and winter.  (Just like a healthy peach tree is not expected to bare fruit in fall and winter.) I have learned that production can be a byproduct of health in some seasons, however it is not the standard by which to gauge my life.

My fall season was difficult.  I had to let go of a lot of things that I loved. I had to.  I was spent in every way, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.  I was no longer ministering from a place of rest.  I was running on fumes. I felt like the shell of the person I had once been.  I stepped down from my place in leadership, not because I wanted to, but because I needed to.  My fall season was all about letting go.

My winter season has been long and lonely.  First stepping down from ministry meant stepping away from those I served with.  The depth of our friendships was and is still there, but the time was no longer there. They continued serving in ministry and I was now out of commission. During this winter season, my family moved three times.  Each move was a God move.  Each move was an answer to prayer in some way, but each move took me further away. This winter season has been hard. In many ways I have felt invisible, lonely, misunderstood.  I have spent hours in prayer trying to figure out where I went wrong.  Trying to fix what was broken so that I could get back on track.  I have been undone.

During this winter season, I have been stretched.  There has been a hidden depth within the loneliness.  The silence of this season has brought me to my knees time and time again.  In the quietness of this season, I have learned to trust God even more.  He has been my constant.  He has captured every tear.

In the midst of this quiet and lonely season, God has brought me divine friendships.  People who have granted me permission to be vulnerable, to heal, to grow.  They have not condemned my lack of doing and producing.  They have allowed me the freedom to just be.  Some days I am present, talkative, and lively.  Other days, I am more withdrawn, listening as others talk not ready to enter into the conversation.  At times, I refrain from interjecting into the conversations because in many ways I feel unfinished. I feel like God is operating on my soul expanding my thoughts and giving me a hunger for things I cannot explain.  Sometimes I have no language for what I am feeling and what I am thinking. My language, my voice will return, I trust that it will, in due season.

I am learning that people go through seasons of life at different speeds and in different ways.  As a child I was like an evergreen tree, the season may have changed around me but within my own soul I was constant.  As I reached my later teen years, I began to transition from an evergreen tree to a deciduous tree.

Spring and summer were awesome.  My life was full and busy and there was so much purpose to everything I was doing.  I was making a difference, I was producing.

Fall was confusing. I was not prepared for the change in season.  I pushed myself to continue at the pace of my summer season.  I pushed myself to produce, but the grace from the previous busy season had lifted.   I wore myself out, I operated too long on empty, living on fumes.

I entered winter unhealthy, wounded, burned out and confused.  Like a tree in the winter, I felt bare, exposed, and completely vulnerable.  From within this position of vulnerability, I have had to learn how to live. To be planted in my local church.  To make friends. To function in my imperfections. To be honest about my limitations. To be authentic.

I am nearing the end of my winter season.  I can feel it.  I am starting to see early signs of spring, sometimes these signs of spring seem like a faraway mirage, but I knew they are real, although not fully within reach.   I am excited about the prospect of being back in commission.   Winter for me has been hard, but it has been necessary.  There is a depth of intimacy with God that I have found in this winter season, a hunger for deeper things.  The people God has brought me during this season have been true gifts, especially since many of them have been in spring and summer season within their own lives.  The fact that they have loved me in their busy and productive season without putting demands on me to produce alongside them has been a true gift of friendship.  I am learning new levels of grace in this season, likely because I have been the recipient of such amazing grace.

During this season I have found incredible encouragement from speaker and author, Elizabeth Enlow. Her book, God in Every Season, has provided a lifeline to me in the dark and confusing times of winter and has helped me to identify some of the signs of the seasons that I missed the first time around, particularly in that confusing fall season.

[God] made the cycles and seasons for us to live by.  Our privilege is to live in them, not merely surviving, but full of purpose.

Elizabeth Enlow, God in Every Season

I am finally learning that “[God] has made everything beautiful in its time.”  For me, each of these seasons has lasted about five years.  Five years is a really long time to be in any season, especially winter. I am hoping that as I continue to transition in and out of seasons, throughout my life, that I will be able to better recognize the signs and that I will not fight the transitions, but will embrace each season for the beauty that it brings.

What season are you in?  In the various seasons of life are you like an evergreen tree or a deciduous tree? Are you able to recognize the season that you are in?  Join me, as I learn to be more aware of the season I am in, and as I learn to transition season to season with purpose and acceptance.  I want to embrace each season for the beauty that it contains.

Blessings to you in your season of life.  May God’s peace and wisdom guide you each step of the way.

 

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