Seasons

Day 15: Thyme and Seasons

/ joethewaller / Leave a comment

My life could be measured out in pizza slices.
When I was younger, I wanted to be
A “pizza chef,” simple, but somehow grand.

Fast forward a few years: frozen pizzas
Were family dinner staples, filling
Our home with Italian aromas,

Or something like it. In college, we ate
Cafeteria pizza, covered in
Yesterday’s sides (or so I assumed). Still

Good. In seminary, I ate too much
Cheap pizza at youth group, feeding students
And myself as I learned to serve them more

Than Papa John’s. I discovered deep dish
While looking for direction, made my way
Through darkness with the help of local pies

And some Red Barons. Some nights, that and an
Episode of Chef’s Table fed my soul.
Tonight, I’ll share a slice with my wife, and
Savor every bit of this good life.

Photo by Jordon Kaplan on Unsplash

The first line is a reference to a line in “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T. S. Eliot.

Seasons

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Seasons are strange things. In some ways, there’s a sense of safety in an understanding of seasons. For example, it’s currently summer, which means it’s hot and humid here in New Orleans. The weather feels almost oppressive at times, zapping our energy levels and frustrating us with its unrelenting heat. But summer is a season, and seasons change. Some day, the air will feel cooler and dryer. The weight of the still, stuffy air will be lifted by cool breezes, and we’ll feel lighter instead of heavier as we step outside. Knowing this, I can endure the discomfort of today because I know a change will come. I need not get lost in the difficulty of today; I can rest in the knowledge that this process will continue on as it has always done. This is simply the season for heat and humidity, and that’s okay.

Our understanding of seasons doesn’t diminish the difficulty of the present day, though. We who are especially prone to discomfort during summer suffer, in a way, while in that season, longing for the relief of fall. Likewise, we who are especially prone to discomfort during winter suffer in the cold as we wait for the relief of spring. The seasons don’t look the same, and we don’t feel the same way through them all. As they change, so do we.

Seasons of life are similar. We experiences seasons of joy and peace, of fun and freedom, filled with recreation and rest and friends and family. We also experiences seasons of hardship and loss, of discomfort and distress, of loneliness and isolation. We experience seasons of abundance as well as seasons of lack, seasons of much and seasons of little. “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens,” as the author of Ecclesiastes reminds us (Ecclesiastes 3:1). And we change with those seasons, sometimes growing, sometimes struggling to grow. And just like there are cooler days in the summer and warmer days in the winter, our seasons are not monolithic. There are genuine joys in the midst of hard seasons, and there are genuine sorrows in the midst of easy seasons. Life is complex, as are we. Knowing this brings some comfort, but it does not necessarily lessen the weight of our experiences.

Through every season, though, God is constant, steadfast, faithful. He remains sovereign over every season, Lord over every day we live. Jesus continues to intercede on behalf of his own. The Spirit remains with us to comfort, to convict, and to encourage growth in godliness. Though our experiences change, and though we change over time, our God does not. I think this is part of why Paul can say in Philippians 4, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13). Though seasons change, one thing remains constant through it all. By centering our lives on Jesus, we find strength to weather any season.

That’s easier said than done, of course. In difficult seasons, it can be hard to abide in him. Our circumstances, our community, and at times, even our own thoughts, feelings, and bodies can feel like obstacles to walking with Jesus. We can know cognitively that he is with us and that he will sustain us without feeling it to be true, and we can try to seek him while feeling like our limbs are too heavy to do the work. In such times, an understanding of seasons can feel almost worthless. But if the Bible is true and if God is faithful, then there is always hope. Maybe in our most difficult seasons, our weakness doesn’t have to define our experience. Maybe it’s not greater effort but rest that will lead us to freedom. Maybe the answer isn’t in us but in him.

As seasons change, and as we change with them, it’s easy to lose sight of what is constant and unchanging. It’s easy to forget that the one who has overcome this world has indeed overcome this world, that even death itself has been experienced and conquered. If this is true, then nothing we face is outside of his ability to turn for good. Nothing we face, and nothing we become, is beyond his power to redeem. So we can exist in this season, and in every season, with a hope, a foundation, and a strength found not in the season itself but in the one who walks with us through every season. Further, we can rest in the fact that for those who love God, no season is wasted. All things work together for good (Romans 8:28), and nothing can separate us from God’s love (Romans 8:31-39).

Seasons change, and so do we. Sometimes we long for the change, and other times we dread it. In every season, though, I believe we can “taste and see that the LORD is good,” and we can find refuge in him (Psalm 34:8). We can hold fast to the promise of future glory, glory that will more than make up for any suffering faced in this life (Romans 8:18). And we find hope in him. If he has shown himself to be good and faithful now, amidst the change and discomfort of these earthly seasons, how much more does he want to give us in eternity?

Thank you to Maci for her feedback on this post! She makes everything better, and I am so grateful for her thoughtful eye.

Photo by Lerone Pieters on Unsplash

The Lord who is my shepherd knows my path

/ joethewaller / 3 Comments

The Lord who is my shepherd knows my path.
When I was lost in darkness, he was there
With purposes of love and not of wrath,
Compassionate and kind and full of care.
He knew how long the wandering would last
And all that would be lost along the way.
He sets all seasons—future, present, past—
Sustaining through the night, bringing the day.
Our Lord is always working, always good,
Always aware of us, our faults, our haste.
Before him, we are always understood,
And with him, there is never any waste.
We make our messes. He is not surprised.
His purposes will still be realized.

Photo by Lili Popper on Unsplash

In Whatever Situation

/ joethewaller / 2 Comments

Have you ever been discontent with your own discontentment?

Many life experiences can bring about discontentment. Maybe it’s your job situation. You can’t seem to find a position that fits, you aren’t being compensated for the extra work you’ve been given, or you were let go in spite of hopes to continue on. Or maybe it’s your relationship status. The relationship in which you invested has come to an end, or maybe the relationship you now have doesn’t fulfill you like you’d hoped. Or maybe it’s your church. You find division where there should be unity, arrogance where there should be humility, distractions where there should be devotion. You can fill in the blank with almost anything. Discontentment isn’t rare.

A strange thing can occur in some cases, however. As time passes, you may find yourself becoming discontent with your own discontentment. You know the Lord is your provider, that he gives peace and joy in abundance. Yet you can’t seem to shake the feelings of discontentment, and you feel ashamed. You feel as if you should be past this, as if your struggle shouldn’t last so long. You feel weak for still feeling so helpless.

True, we shouldn’t grow content with discontentment. A healthy dissatisfaction with the state of mind is right and good. However, we needn’t hold ourselves to unhealthily high standards. I sometimes feel as if I ought to stifle any emotions that have overstayed their welcome, denying or overlooking any feelings that persist beyond a comfortable time frame. But such an approach is unrealistic. We progress at different paces, adjust to new seasons in various ways, and heal more slowly than we’d like sometimes. Because of this, feelings of discontentment may indeed last longer than we think they should, and such extended seasons can humble us.

Thankfully, the solution to discontentment remains the same: the power of Christ. As Paul expressed by his personal testimonies in 2 Corinthians 12 and Philippians 4, the power of Christ enabled him to face any situation with contentment, even extended suffering. In all seasons, Paul understood that the Lord was his shepherd, his provider, his protector. Faith in this truth freed Paul from looking to anything else as a source of contentment.

Finding contentment in Christ doesn’t necessarily mean seasons will pass more quickly. It won’t make life easier. You’ll still be bummed sometimes, still be hurt sometimes, still struggle to feel okay sometimes. And I think that’s part of the point. As we feel deeply the strangeness of this world, we see clearly its inability to be for us all we’d like it to be. The insufficiency of the world reminds us of the sufficiency of Christ. So look to Christ. No matter the circumstance, look up to the Savior. In your weakness, he is strong.

Photo by Sandie Clarke on Unsplash

Faithfulness

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Some days, jogging is almost easy.

You wake up feeling refreshed, motivated to get outside in the cool morning air and run. As you work up a sweat, you feel the chill of the breeze on your brow, cooling you as you make progress down the road. The stillness of the morning, dimly lit but ever brightening, holds a kind of peace. Exercise is a joy, a blessing, on days like this.

Some days, however, jogging is more difficult.

You know you need to exercise, but you already feel tired, sluggish at the thought of the heat and humidity. You lower your goals as you run because you know you don’t have the energy to do all you’d intended to do. You struggle to catch your breath, struggle to keep the pace, struggle to find the motivation to keep running. Exercise doesn’t feel like a joy on days like this.

As much as I’d like every run to resemble the first one, the reality is that the second type of run seems to occur more frequently. But both types of runs must be completed for the exercise to produce results. If I only ran when running was easy, I’d rarely run, and I’d see very little benefit from it.

I think the same is true of faithfulness in the Christian life. Sometimes faithfulness seems almost easy. Everyone around you agrees, all obstacles seem manageable (if any obstacles appear at all), and your walk with the Lord fills you with motivation and excitement for the work before you. Other times, however, faithfulness feels much more difficult. Disagreement and division seem to persist around you, obstacles seem unassailable, and your spiritual life feels dry and cold.

As with jogging, so with faithfulness. Faithfulness isn’t only for good days or for easy roads. Faithfulness is for the hard days as well, for the difficult seasons of life, for the “trials of various kinds” James talks about (James 1:2-4). Though we can, and should, count the testing of our faith as joy, the path of faithfulness will not always be pleasant or painless. But the Lord produces fruit in the steadfastness and faithfulness of his people.

So go for that run, even if it’s more difficult today, even if you don’t feel motivated, even if you don’t beat your personal record. And pursue faithfulness, even if it’s more difficult, even if you don’t feel motivated, even if you don’t accomplish all you hoped you would. Let us be found faithful, and let us trust the Lord to produce fruit through our faithfulness.

Photo by Gemilang Sinuyudhan on Unsplash