Changing Seasons

While the leaves have already changed in the northeastern portion of this nation, here in Dallas things are moving a bit more slowly. October is always a fickle time of year in the Lone Star state. Will it be cold? Maybe. Will it be hot? Probably. Will it rain? Possibly. Will it snow? It could...you'll just have to wait and see. October is meteorological "mystery" month in North Texas.

It has become enjoyable for me to live in a place that has some distinction of season. In my former mostly desert place of residence, there were basically two seasons: hot and hotter. While the Bermuda grass did go dormant for a few months in "winter" as it was, we were always quick to overseed with rye grass to maintain the green hues in a landscape dominantly cast in browns, tans and neutrals. Not nearly as many people overseed their lawns here. It may merely be due to the size of the lawns (everything's bigger in Texas) or it may simply have something to do with appreciating the marking of the seasons.

Some leaves have begun to change here, but a few colder nights will be required before fall really kicks into gear in North Texas. When it comes, and it will come, it will seem as if to come virtually overnight. Another ten degrees will fall off the overnight thermometer and that will be that. Fall will roll right into winter and I'll be sucking up oak leaves with a yard vac.

When winter hits in Dallas (one good ice storm can quickly get the job done) everything turns gray. Trees are stripped bare to the bark. Many days seem to have a gray lens over them but there is something appropriate about it all. A season to fit the times. Christmas fires are warmer when the leaves are gone and the grass quietly sleeps in a slightly mellow yellow tone. It is right to pause and let nature take its course. Overseeding is certainly optional and not necessarily preferred.

In the seasons of our souls, isn't it appropriate there be marks of change? When bitter cold breaks into life, the leaves turn and fall, the grass withers and sleeps, why are we often so quick to "overseed" as if to cover up the inevitable dormancy of the soul's "winter" months?

"There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven..."
(Ecc. 3:1)

Observing the changes in your spiritual year, would distinctive seasons be apparent? Are you stuck in Spring where only beautiful blooms are allowed to grow? Or has winter fallen upon you with such a continuing force, there is no hope for the grass to come back or for the birds to return to nesting to bring a new generation of life?

"[God] has made everything beautiful in its time.
He has also set eternity in the hearts of men;
yet they cannot fathom what God has done from
beginning to end"
(Ecc. 3:11)

Perhaps if we were to better mark the "seasons" of our spiritual lives, we would at least better fathom what God has done and may be doing now?

The grass has yellowed, the leaves have fallen, I now stand bare before the Lord. In His good time, the Spring will come and with it, new life.