The Coming Seasons

The movie Miss Congeniality would say that the perfect date was April 25th (“Not too hot and not too cold”), but what about that first glorious day in August or September when its equally summer and Autumn. There is no date for it on the calendar, but my favorite days are the in between days. The perfect middle between winter and spring and the day when you can feel summer start to ever so slightly relent in favor of autumn.

I have vivid memories of walking through the halls during the spring semester of high school with the sun streaming through the windows. My delight at being able to wear a hoodie and flip flops was evident. The first hints that spring was coming brought anticipation. Carrying with it all the hope of the days to come. Bringing to mind all the best parts of the season ahead. As I walked down those halls, I was thinking about half days of school and snow cones and picnics. Of softball leagues and bonfires.

Those last late summer days carrying whiffs of costume parties, and heavy sweaters, and football games.

Yet, on the same day that I feel the earliest hint of a fall breeze on my arms, there are so many other in-betweens in life. In between answers, jobs, life stages. You can be in a season of waiting that feels very in between. Whether you are on the precipice of change, or at the beginning of something new, it can all feel in between. In between and transitions.

I am left in the inbetween times of life tempted to push away hope. Because hope is there if I am willing to reach for it. My brain can easily drift to considering all the things that could go wrong. All the things that I am not looking forward to.

Why is it so easy to take joy in the changing seasons, and yet struggle with life’s transitions? Why is it so easy to hope as the autumn approach?

Hope in what’s ahead comes easier because I can remember what has come before. I have had decades on autumns to recall. Decades of leaf piles and pumpkin patches and fall festivals. A lifetime of remembering that while fall turns to winter, winter always turns to spring.

Does my soul recall only the good? Not at all. The first cloudy fall day in which the air is heavy with coming rain can bring tears to my eyes with memories of strife and heartache. The dreary weather reminds me of seasons of loneliness as friends went off to college and I remained home alone.

However, despite the difficult memories that will cloud any season, I can look expectantly ahead because beauty has consistently filled those places. The hope is reinforced by traditions and rhythms and celebrations that serve as markers for the months ahead.

The in-betweens are sweeter because I know that good things are ahead.

So when transition come in life… those moments when you aren’t sure where things are going to go or when you are waiting for something you really want, when sickness comes, or you don’t get a promotion, or you lose a friend… We can look back and remember all the times that God was always with us. Our hope is not in vain, because our hope is rooted in the One who has always and will always come through. In the One who never changes. We don’t see what is ahead, but we have seen what He has always done. Which is remain with us. And redeem us, and uphold us, and sanctify us.

We can hope in what’s ahead because we look back and see the cross.

And the grace upon grace is that though we so easily forget, He reminds us. He comforts us. He is faithful when we are not. He remembers when we forget.

So when you find yourself in the middle, unsure of what is to come and lacing hope in what’s ahead, look to the One who has always been unchangingly. Who has always been good. We are only truly inbetween earth and Heaven, because the certainty of Heaven was won on the cross. The path to get there is full of twists and turns, but we will surely arrive safely. And all of it will make sense in the end.