Season by Season

Photo by Autumn Mott Rodeheaver on Unsplash

While discussing the coming of autumn in late August, my boyfriend said, "Micaelyn's favorite season is the next one." The sentiment is incredibly accurate. For example, my birthday is in mid-January. It's a time of year characterized by muddy slush on the ground, slightly disheartened dispositions because many of us have thrown out our resolutions by this point already, and slow-moving attitudes due to the hype of the holiday season passing. Add to this the fact that I was born on the American inauguration day, so every four years, the news on my birthday is either filled with celebrations or people literally burning down buildings. (Yes, in 2016, on my 19th birthday, all the televisions where I was having a birthday lunch with my sister did depict people burning down buildings.)

As you can see, I have a bit of a negative outlook on my birthday and this particular season in general. On my 17th birthday, my mom tried to help make my birthday feel extra special by decorating the house so that it looked like spring. I loved it--being surrounded by flowers and pastel colors in the midst of such a dreary season. I've tried to mimic this concept every year at my birthday, going to butterfly exhibits or collecting bunches and bunches of flowers to scatter around my room. I don't like the mid-January season. I'm always waiting for spring.

My life is often like this. I spend much of my time waiting for the next season. Just last week, I was speaking with my mom about how I'm tired of being an unmarried twenty-something. I'm longing for a season where I'm settling down, starting a family, and building a home. Obviously, there are struggles for young families: learning to work together in marriage, learning to be a parent, and juggling all the daily struggles that come with these things. Yet, I long for that season, for those struggles. Sometimes I'd trade my unmarried twenty-something struggles for sleepless nights and an infant. Sometimes, though, I appreciate the season I'm in.

I'm trying to learn to be present, to simply be, and not just this, but also to relish the moment I'm in for exactly what it is. During August, I spent most of the month longing for the coming of autumn. I have a hard time choosing a favorite season, but I think I love fall most of all. It's difficult to be present in August and appreciate it for what it is. August and early September are right on the cusp of autumn's awakening. I can't wait for cozy sweaters and caramel-scented candles. I feel this rising desire for the fresh start the transitional nature of autumn seems to welcome, calling me into a season marked by transformation and tradition.

In an effort to simply enjoy the season I am in, both as I wait for autumn and as I wait for marriage and motherhood, I am seeking out those things that reflect the season I am in and then praising the Lord for those things. Walking into the grocery store two weeks ago, I noticed a display of cinnamon-scented pinecones next to the last watermelons of the summer season. This is the season I am in, the season of pinecones and watermelons, and I will appreciate it for what it is. So it is in my life; I am in the season of waiting, growing, and serving, and I will praise the Lord all the way through.