Seasons

I love this time of year. Autumn seems to stir so many things inside of me, and yet, at the same time brings a calmness to my spirit.

I am inspired by the colors of the changing leaves that demonstrate God's artistry. What a wonderful palette He has used! I'm continually amazed that we are invited to enjoy his creativity and be blessed with this brilliance as the seasons change.

The chill in the air makes me feel "cozy". I become much more of a home body at this time of year, and quite domestic too! Cooking warm meals or baking goodies of some kind while kids are doing their homework as it gets dark outside all feels very comforting and soothing. Sitting by a warm fire place, sipping hot tea or cocoa, and wrapping up in a blanket while reading or watching a good movie is almost the ultimate in autumnal coziness.

Autumn is also a season filled with holidays that bring families together. Just the other day we were talking about Thanksgiving and Christmas! As everyone listed off their favorite dishes for each "feast", talk of 'where to put the Christmas tree' began to surface.

Yes, this is a good time of year.

But I find myself feeling melancholy. I think it is because the seasons of my life are yet again changing. Each new "season" brings with it, its own joys and sorrows. It is not unlike when your baby takes his or her first steps; how wonderfully exciting, yet sad all at the same time. You welcome a toddler while letting go of an infant.

I'm pretty certain I know the source of this melancholy. Identifying it is the first step to walking through it gracefully, right? (?) I know the realization that my kids are really growing up quickly is a biggie. How can it be that another child will be graduating this year and heading off to college next fall? How can it be that my baby girl will be entering high school next fall? Where did the days go when the biggest problem was getting my child to share his blocks with a friend? Now the choices have potentially life long consequences, and I increasingly realize that my ability to comfort or console my children and their "owies" is limited. I feel powerless when I see their hearts breaking, and I can't 'kiss it and make it better'. I'm learning that my only resource and strength comes from prayer and trust in the One that can meet their needs and bring peace to them. This 'releasing' is a continual exercise. Just when I think I'm getting pretty good at it, another test comes along just to help me see how tightly I'm still holding on.

Another source of melancholy is the realization that Mom is not doing very well, and it really seems likely that this could be the last Autumn we share with her. My Mother, along with my oldest sister came over for dinner on Sunday. We had a great afternoon of talking, eating and playing a game. But Mom was different, and it was noticeable. Her last oncologist report was that the chemo is getting to a place where it isn't "working" any longer and it may be time to talk about "alternatives". She is also beginning to show some new symptoms and signs that she is getting sicker.

As I sat next to my mother playing "Apples to Apples", I felt like I was sitting next to someone I didn't really know, yet she seemed so familiar somehow. She looked like my mom, but the mother I have known for all these years is not there. Cancer has changed her, and I find myself trying to grapple with the loss of a relationship I had known with her, knowing that it has passed forever.

I know it is especially easy at this time of year with the darker days, the rain and the cold, to experience "the blues", or be melancholy, but I'm working hard at focusing on the beauty of this season and this season of life I'm in. Even if I don't emotionally feel like it, deep in my spirit, I have hope and trust that the same God that has chosen Autumn as the season where a leaf reaches it's climax of beauty, is the same God that can make my life more beautiful, richer, more vibrant and still filled with hope for what is to come. I know there will be losses, but just like the changing from summer to autumn, I anticipate a new joy, a new surprise in what the next season of my life has in store.