The Season of Change

December was supposed to be my month. November hadn’t turned out so great, and embracing the idea of positive self-talk, I had convinced myself that December would be better. Quite literally, I counted down the days until the new month began. And then it did. And things continued their tailspin.

Now before anyone gets too worried, none of my life’s trials are currently that bad. There are people who are going through much worse. I recognize this and I’m grateful that my biggest personal concern is that I haven’t had half of my electricity for the better part of the month. Yet giving mental assent to this fact hasn’t helped my attitude much in the last few days. I beat. And I’m tired. And quite frankly, I want someone to rescue me.

But no one has. And in fact, several people have offered to help, but there’s nothing they can do. It’s surprising – for a girl who never asks for assistance – in the rare case that I would actually accept it, I have to do it on my own. No one can climb the incline for me.

And I think some times are just like that. Like Alexander and the terrible, horrible, no-good very bad day, we have to recognize that every life has its seasons. Some are worse than others, some are better. I think I tend to hover around autumn – not too hot, not too cold, but always filled with change. I don’t experience the majesty of spring or the destitution of winter, and somehow it all evens out for me in the end. Knowing that I know the One who causes every wind to blow and every leaf to fall, helps make autumn sustainable. After all, even a sparrow doesn’t stumble without Him being aware.

Alexander wanted to move to Australia. I can certainly understand that feeling. But Australia has its autumns too. And at least if I’m in autumn, I can always look forward to the eternal Spring.