winter.
spring.
summer.
fall.
4 words that describe the way the earth dresses herself in a year. I've been thinking about seasons a lot recently and all the parallels that exist within this idea of what these 4 chunks of the year represent. Fall is my favorite season and time of year. It's the time of year my senses are heightened and the intensity of my [smell, taste, feel, look, and hear] almost overwhelm me.
I love the colors, the amber and honey and fire engine red and peanut butter brown leaves holding on for as long as they can to trees falling fast asleep as the ground gets cooler with each day.
I love the smells, how I can drink in deep the cinnamon sticks boiling on my gram's stove and the spicy chili that stings my nose just a little and the air so crisp, not the suffocating summer oxygen, or the bitter winter pant.
I love the noises, the crinkle of leaves and the smack of football pads and the way wagon wheels on hay can almost sound like a symphony.
I love the savory fall meals, crisp apples, Yia-Yia's homemade spaghetti sauce and Kelley's cheesy potatoes and Aunt Karen's goulash and Uncle Don's chili and Aunt Becky's homemade salsa on cornbread.
I love the way life speeds up and slows down at the same time. We resemble ants, scrambling to get in the last of life before the ground takes a sabbatical, but spending more time at home, with the family on Saturday's to watch college football and Friday nights to get to the high school boys game, more movie nights and order-in-pizza nights, lounging around the tv earlier and earlier each night. I like fall- fall is the last chance to do everything "one more time".
Then comes winter, a beautiful death. It's magical, almost, the way soil and roots and animals handle their livelihood being dormant. The bareness of the sky, how every house and street look the same under a cloak of white. All the unique things that make the outside of your house- your house, are concealed in the hypnosis of winter's song. This is the time where everything appears frozen in time, but underneath all the covering... life is slowly rebuilding, refreshing. Winter is the time earth takes to get her stuff together, to heal from the beating of spring, summer, and fall. Winter is the time earth takes to readjust and reflect on what the previous seasons brought her. Winter is the time where the hardest change is done. This season is about reshaping, getting "all the ducks lined up" that got out of order with the hectic array of spring, summer, and fall. Winter is long, it takes quite a bit of time for the roots to fight the grip of freeze and strain for the surface and the renewal that the coming spring will bring. Winter is when you hold your breath for as long as you can, because you want your next breath to not hurt your lungs. Winter is slow and there is ample time to gather thoughts, push them around, shake them free and start again enough times that you end up feeling like your thoughts resemble scrambled eggs. Winter is when you really learn how deep your faith goes; because each time you look out your window and all you see is a coffin of frost... you either let the frost invade your heart or you notice that-instead of a coffin of frost, you see a verglas shielding your heart from the biting cold. This is my winter and it's been a long one. Coming to grips with loss and disappointments and disillusionments. Realizing that God is answering my prayer of changing my heart and being terrified about what that means. Praising Him that He's WAY to smart to answer my prayers all at once and finally being grateful for that. Giving Jesus the right-away in my life. Asking with boldness and confidence for the longings and awakened desires in my heart. Learning that He is good, really, in all things. This winter for me has brought sorrow, deep, to the bone and soul. This winter has ripped me open in places I had taped, superglued, stapled, cross-stitched, and welded shut. I've shed more tears in this season than in the entirety of my life. Winter is about rebirth, but everything has to die first. That's the beautiful part, and the part you can reach for. At the end of the season, the blanket covering everything up will wash away and take all the dead and old with it; leaving pliant ground and rich, soft soil for the new and beautiful to rise up. The bible uses similar comparisons; like the harvest and beauty from ashes and the old will wash away and the 40 years wandering. We all have winters. That's kinda God's m.o. - it's His job to take us from who and where we were, to where He is and who we are in Him.
Winter is rough, but necessary, imperative even.
I'm so thankful for this season and I'm embracing it with all I've got because I know that God's work is being done and I want to feel every second of this molding process. I am anticipating and eager for the next season, but only when God has washed away all the dead and old.
