In the church world, or at least in my church world, there is a rather constant word. The word is season. On the family radio broadcast, in my daily devotional, during the meetings, messages, meals, music, and mission announcements, there is talk of seasons.
I think about how often I hear the word. It’s not a terribly important thing to ponder, not like things I should think about like a verse to memorize or a Bible story to re-read. This morning I’m trying to qualify this word’s meaning. I typically shun overused language. But this word caught me.
Most folks think of seasons in terms of climate. Season for farmers means planting or harvesting, for hunters means duck or deer, for sportsman means football or baseball, for TVers means a series of episodes. For church-goers means, I think, a time of life. I think.
But life seasons have no parameters or defining development. Unlike deer hunting season or football season, there are no start and stop dates. Which means there is no mid-season. That means, it is very hard for me, who even now can’t imagine life without my best friend for the rest of my days, to say I’m walking through a season. Is it a season? Or did the happy in my life change for good. What if I can’t see around a corner because there actually is no corner? What if, after being repeatedly told, I will get use to singlehood, I never do. There is no red X on my calendar. No smiley face. No star sticker in the next couple months.
Because I know my God, and because His word teaches an end to seasons (Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30:5), I will say there must be an end to mine. No alert will notify me. Nothing will necessarily mark the end. I imagine the end will dissipate into a new season, like a few rays of spring piercing winter clouds signifying change. I imagine I won’t hardly notice until one day I don’t think of Bill every minute, wish he were coming with me, want him to sit beside me, just plain hold me. God is faithful to bring an end to, and launch a beginning to… seasons.