On our last family trip to Fayetteville, Brooklyn started singing (as much as a 2.5 year old sings) in the back seat. Adam looked to me to translate. To everything, turn, turn, turn, there is a season, turn, turn, turn I sang with her. (His interest in music doesn't extend further into the past than the 1980s, so this didn't really illuminate him.)
But it's always a good reminder, which is why I taught it to her. We move along from season to season, within the year and within our lives, sometimes feeling like time has slowed to a crawl and sometimes looking back and wondering where it all went. But they pass, just the same, and there's always another one waiting in line.
I've been in seasons of loneliness - but they were great for introspection. I've been in seasons of busyness - but they taught me how to say no, and to ask for help and accept it when offered. I've been in seasons of delirious exhaustion - but they reminded me that I cannot move forward on my own strength, but only if I lean on Him.
This is another potpourri season - I love the introverting potential of short days and cold nights, but feel anxious about the social demands of holidays. Life is a blend of stress and peace, of trying to maintain control and letting go, of frustration and joy, of a preschooler and a baby (who are each their own sort of unpredictable roller coaster, but still not a ride I have any desire to step off of - for the most part). As with every stage (of life or climate) I'm just trying to take it one day, and one cup of tea, at a time.
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