I believe in process. I believe in four seasons. I believe that winter’s tough, but spring’s coming. I believe that there’s a growing season. And I think that you realize that in life, you grow. You get better. – Steve Southerland
I love how the seasons tell us stories and teach us lessons all the same. They are constantly telling us the story of change and the story of process. They know their place in the story and respect the boundaries of their time given.
Summer teaches us patience. It is the season most of us look forward to the most. It is the time of the year when we can play outside, enjoy trips to the beach, and soak up the sun. It is during the summer that the days become both warmer and longer, and the sun shines more frequently.
Fall teaches us to let go. The leaves know their place in the seasons and the importance of timing. Change is in their nature and they embrace it with no complaints. It is during the fall that the days become shorter and the cooler temperatures appear.
Winter teaches us about death. For there is a time to be born, and there is a time to die. It is during this season that we tend to retract from the world and hide out for a while, while we wait for this season to pass. It is during the winter that the days are shorter and it is often very, very cold.
And now, spring is teaching us about growth. We survived the harshness of the winter, and something new is in the air. It is evident by the flowers that have started to appear and the sweet song the birds sing to us each morning. It is during this season that the sun rises a bit earlier and the days get warmer.
As I was driving home yesterday, I noticed this particular beautiful purple tree in the parking lot of Target. Where I live, I don’t see too many trees like this. Actually, the trees in my yard still reflect winter. So in order to frame this memory, I pulled over and took a picture.
The tree, so vibrant in color, makes this season of spring look so easy, like it just “naturally” happened. However, for the tree to bloom, it had to undergo change. It had to endure the intense heat from the summer. It had to “let go” of its leaves when fall arrived. It had to die by the elements of the harsh winter, and then wait patiently for its chance to bloom again.
That is how I feel in the present moment. I am on the cusp of something great, something greater than myself, yet I can’t quite shake the remaining elements of winter. There is still a small piece that has yet to die, but as nature states, it has to in order for something new to be born.
Today, Momastery posted “Our Story of Easter” on her blog. She wrote about how her marriage was in the “Saturday” of Easter and that it had to experience a “death” first before it could grow into something new.
New life often requires a death first. And sometimes that means the death of a marriage. Some relationships are like perennials; they survive the winter and bloom again bigger and fuller than ever. And other loves are annuals. They last for a season and then winter comes and they die and they crumble into the soil making it richer for the next bush to bloom. Either way there is new life. Either way there is redemption and never before seen beauty.
Regardless if it is a marriage, a job, a dream, or any form of a relationship, it has to die eventually for something new to be resurrected. As I reflect this Good Friday on all that has changed recently in my life and all that still needs to change, I know that something needs to give up the fight and stop resisting change. It has to bury itself deep in the soil, die to what was, so that the new can spring forth.
Waiting is hard. And maybe I’m in my own “Saturday,” but fortunately Sunday is just moments away. A lot can happen in three days and spring will arrive exactly in the time that it was meant to.