autumn – Melanie Stevenson

October 8, 2024

Embracing Life’s Seasons

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” ~ Eccleciates 3:1

Summer yawned into Fall this year, hesitant to depart and lazily lounging over the shortening sunshiney days. It warmly greeted me for coffee on the porch and lingered in the cricket-chorused evenings. Even now, as I peer out my window while writing this, I question its impending departure.

The seasons where I live in Ontario, Canada, are pronounced. I don’t mean we sound them out clearly, but they each have specific characteristics. Fall is a vibrant cacophony of color contrasted with blazing blue skies and crisp, fire-smoke-infused air. But this year, Summer has been reluctant to pass the baton to Fall.

Though on the cusp of Thanksgiving weekend in Canada, the leaves have been slow to change on our quaint street. A few early dissenters dust the sidewalk, but most appear full of chlorophyll and clinging to the branches. I imagine, in a couple more weeks, once the summer relents and the frost arrives, there will be a riot of color and the frenzy of falling leaves. Until then, I’ll take every opportunity to enjoy lunch outside with friends and collect a few bonus morning coffees on the porch, embracing every last sun-kissed day.

Not only do I prefer the warm, endless summer days, but I also prefer “summer-like” conditions in my life. Given the choice, I’d remain in the sunshine, wrapped in warmth and comfort. But those fair-weather conditions aren’t always conducive to resiliency and personal growth, are they? Sometimes, they render us complacent. Just as much as we need seasons of flourishing beauty, we also need letting-go seasons, biting-cold winters, and spring-like restarts.

Whether we like it or not, our lives are full of varying seasons. Even though we’re partial to some more than others, all must be traversed to encourage growth. The problem is, sometimes, we refuse to let go of a season. We, like this summer, overstay. We fail to see that we must move on to the next season with its distinct features. Instead, we cling to comfort and refuse to launch into the newness that awaits.

The reason, if we’re honest, is that we’re often fearful of change. We’re afraid of the unknown on the other side of this season. Sometimes, we worry that the current season will never depart or the next may be even worse. Other times, though the season changes, we’re stuck in the old one, pursuing what is perishing or wallowing in the dark chill of winter.

When I hang on to a season that has passed, it signals a lack of trust (aka. fear), thanklessness, willfulness, or bitterness. I may have failed to embrace the aspects the season was meant to offer; even more, I may have failed to embrace the One who offers His hand to traverse it.

What would it look like to embrace the season we find ourselves in and then release it when it has passed? How changed would we be if we stopped chasing after falling leaves, bemoaning what we lack, or complaining about where we find ourselves? How might we allow this present season to transform us? And what would it look like to bravely step into the next one?

As we approach Thanksgiving, can we find thankfulness for all life’s seasons? Not lagging behind, not rushing ahead, but in step with Jesus. Can we trust that God has a purpose and plan for every season and that our only aim is to remain with him throughout every one?

May God be all you need as you cling to Him during this season of your life.

Reflections:

Make a list of things you can be thankful for during this season of your life.
Make a list of the things you are having difficulty letting go of.
Take some time to release what needs to be released, and thank God for all you have been given.

August 24, 2020

To All of Us Who Are Charting Unknowns

The crickets are in full chorus, and, for me, that’s always a sure sign of the approach of fall.

In all its breathtaking beauty, pristine skies, and warm color, fall overtakes summertime, yet I struggle to say goodbye to our Canadian summer. With fading flowers, shorter days, and cooler nights, September will bring with it the new school year and the added challenges due to COVID.

We’ve already seen so much change and made so many adjustments. I’m amazed at our resiliency to face unknowns and navigate countless uncharted routes. How we’ve persevered and continued to try new things is remarkable. How we’ve kept going and reaching for our dreams despite uncertainty or loss is inspiring.

Stepping into new and unknown territory, or continuing forward on the current climb, can be unnerving. We want to know the route in advance, to have all the possible unknowns nailed down, to make sure we don’t get derailed. But in truth, we can’t and don’t have to. All the planning in the world can’t ensure a perfect outcome or ideal conditions.

Being courageous or trying new things doesn’t mean a lack of fear. It means treading forward onto new ground despite fear. It means with every step forward we tramp over fear until we have reached our destination. There may be some detours, some tough climbs, some falling rocks, but we stay the course, undaunted by the fallout.

Don’t be fooled. Trying new or hard things swings the door wide on fear, but what if we renegotiate our thought life and say that fear’s proximity signals we are on the right track? Its arrival means we are stretching ourselves and reaching and learning and growing. We are moving forward, conquering the rough bits, and refusing to atrophy.

Mistakes? Bring them on! They too need to be rewired in our thought process. Our brain will expand through missteps, and we will grow more sure-footed. Mistakes—or wilderness wandering—is often preparation for future treks. Through them, we learn to trust God more fully, we grow in wisdom, and gather more grip for the next hard thing. Wrapped in His forgiveness and grace, and increasing in confidence, we will lunge forward, like a cliff climber reaching upward to grasp the smallest rocky outcrop that seems almost out of reach.

Before we know it, we are challenging others to try hard things or to join us in ours. Then one bright day, we pause to check the map and discover how far we’ve come. We smile because at that moment we realize that although it wasn’t easy or perfect, we scaled the unknowns and arrived. It was worth the climb, and more than that, we are no longer the same as when we began. We are stronger and wiser, and our character has grown.

Somewhere along the journey, fear—overshadowed by courage—became a bystander.

My courageous step forward this fall is beginning to write my third book. Fear is lurking and eager to heap on discouragement. But I’m choosing to believe that it’s a signal I’m on the right track. I’m reaching and moving forward despite imperfections and unknowns. Each written word is a step forward in my climb, my journey, and I trust its completion will be worth the effort. After all, my word of the year is Fearless! And while that may not mean a complete lack of fear, I can definitely fear-less.

As you approach this fall, with its many unknowns and invitations to fear, be reminded that with every step forward, you are not only moving ahead, but also growing, learning, and developing. It’s not about the absence of fear, or fully controlling the conditions, it’s about taking one small and courageous step at a time and enjoying the view.

May you be enfolded by the grace and mercy of the Father, trusting that one glorious day all the twists and turns of your journey will make sense.

“The way we deal with uncertainty says a lot about whether Jesus is ahead of us leading or just behind us carrying our stuff.” ~ Bob Goff

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” ~ Jeremiah 29:11

October 8, 2018October 8, 2018

Finding Thankfulness

43328088_388108668392379_1748380744096415744_n — I’m thankful for my hubby.

Confession: Fall isn’t my favourite time of year. I much prefer hot, hazy mid-summer days. I adore my garden at peak performance showing off its full glory. I relish a few lazy minutes of reading on the porch with the birds’ chorus adding to the unfolding beauty. There’s the endless, sunspun blue skies, and the warm evenings begging us to linger outside and squeeze the most out of the long days of light. Even as I write this, I’m still mourning summer’s end.

43410118_307083616544549_2247442114096922624_n — I’m thankful for my garden.

But its fall and, in Canada, that means a few changes. And with the changing season come a few things I could stand to be grateful for. Things like: apple cider, the smell of smoke sauntering out of hundred-year-old chimneys, the blazing leaves letting go, comical gourds, pumpkin pies, fall Mums, and cosy sweaters. Maybe you could add a few of your own.

My daughter adores this time of year and makes a fall list – traditions that she keeps each year. Among other activities, she decorates her room, visits the pumpkin patch with a friend, then painstakingly carves the perfect pumpkin once home. She makes procuring a pumpkin spice latte a must, makes a fall play list, and even dresses up for Halloween to hand out candy at our door. Through her, I’m trying to increase my affection for fall.

But no matter where we find ourselves this autumn, no matter how much you cherish the changing seasons, how amazing, or not-quite-so-amazing, your circumstances may be, the truth is we can always find something to be thankful for. Thanksgiving is an ideal reminder that we really should be living each day thankful, not just one weekend.

Here are some things I’m thankful for: a simple breath of outside air, the late-day sun on my face, a flock of migrating birds crossing overhead, a sip of warm coffee, the bite of food in my mouth before thinking of the next, and a moment of stillness in my home (like this one when no one is making a sound). I’m thankful for my dear friends who love and cheer me on, my children who encourage me to do big things, and my husband who still loves me after 26 years of intimately knowing my every fault. And I’m thankful that God, who knows me even better than that, gave His Son because He thinks I matter.

43337705_251081572420446_5444006996279820288_n — I’m thankful for my kids.

This act of being thankful has a way of brushing the cobwebs of ingratitude away. Like the way we gripe in our childish entitlement, or the way we have mini-fits when the world doesn’t give us all we asked for. Thankfulness acts as an automatic attitude-shifter, and the everyday, moment-by-moment practice of it helps us approach our minutes with a healthier, life-giving focus.

There are times so bewilderingly dark, so emotionally or physically painful, that it seems virtually impossible to find a single thing to be thankful for. But even when the light is scant, look hard. There is always a small ray of hope shining in that darkness and lighting something of which to be thankful for – even if it is that next breath.

And, like anything, the more we practice thankfulness, the easier it becomes. What if this weekend we start, and then just keep going – this month and this year – and develop a solid habit of finding something to be thankful for each day, and especially in times of difficulty? I have an inkling we might experience an increased dose of contentment, peace, and joy.

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:18

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Have you made a “Thankful List”?
Develop the practice of finding things to be thankful for each day and even each moment.