Originally published Wednesday, 11 September 2013.
Last night a few old coworkers and I met up at a local Italian joint to bid a fond farewell to a sweet friend.
Something strange was lingering above the long banquet table we sat around. Something was hovering in the air, over the red wine and the chatter of old friends.
It must have been change.
It's beginning to creep into Virginia Beach. It's happening slowly. Pumpkin Spice Lattes are back at the Starbucks up the street, teachers are back at work, summer is leaving.
And fall is coming in like the tide.
Seasons have a rhythm. They're predictable. They're the earth's metronome. And we all just have to march along. Let our toes be swarmed by the foam of the tide. Accepting change, yes, and even stepping into it. Stepping out of old seasons and into new ones. With purpose. With confidence.
But, as I hugged my sweet friend goodbye, I couldn't help but be a little selfish. I couldn't help but to wish that she would linger for a little while longer. Because her leaving signifies an ending of this season.
That makes me sad, because this season has been so full and rich.
It's been a season full of busy days and walking barefoot. It's been a season of washing my feet before I make them dive into the crisp cotton sheets of my snug little bed. It's been a season of blending a bunch of fresh fruit into a smoothie and calling it a meal. It's been a season of interviewing strangers and writing about how God is moving in their lives.
It's been a season full of falling in love. With friends, with jobs, with writing, with exactly where I am. With God.
It's so much easier to love God during the summer time. When everything is alive. It's the time of year when He gives. When seeds that sprout from the ground are ready for harvest.
And when the seeds sprouting in our lives are ready for harvest, too. Harvesting purpose. Harvesting friendships. Harvesting worship and community.
The sense of fulfillment I experience during this time of year is what I chase after every day. It's what I long for in the winter when the ground becomes hard and doesn't give anything. When it's dark before five p.m., and the air is cold and unfriendly.
God is, of course, present during every season. I know this. I've witnessed it.
But, to me, He just seems so much more apparent when the tomatoes are ripe and the air is warm. And maybe that's been a part of His scheme all along. To give us different seasons. Ones that make us smile and extend our hands for harvest, and others that make us clasp our hands together in prayer.
And I think part of being human means it's okay to like one season over the other.
Talk to me sisters, what do you think? Is it easier to love God when the sun is shining? Have there been times in your life when God has seemed nearer than others? Tell me about them! Leave me a comment below!
photo credit: jacki-dee via photopin cc
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