Of Seasons.

I feel a new season brewing. A spiritual season. A time of stillness. Peace. A time for growth. Learning. A time to wait. Accept. A beautiful season.


This June was lovely. Everything it wasn't supposed to be. And it was lovely. I got to know the doctor at the walk in clinic as well as the staffing manager at the hospital way too well. I cancelled shifts I'd promised to work. I backed out on plans and dreams. My basement is still not painted. My dog hasn't run in weeks (with me anyways). I've ate that lovely honey yogurt from Costco until I no longer considered it lovely. My husband has been extraordinarily accommodating. He's made rice pudding and said nothing about the laundry pile(s) and set up fans and picked up Slurpees and just been an overall champ. (I love him).


This season. It's taught me humility. Guess what. I'm NOT invincible and if you work too many shifts in a row your body starts doing funny things. Like pneumonia and strep and other weird things. Were you warned? Yes. Did you listen? Nope. Lesson learned. I think.


This season has taught me patience. It's taught me joy. I've cried over seeds that I was SURE would never sprout, and then watched my garden grow with wide-eyed wonder. My heart sputters happy bubbles at the sight of beans shooting up from the rich soil. I tenderly weed those vibrant green rows standing proudly against the black dirt. I gaze over the fields around our little acreage, and see the rows of wheat, the lush hay fields, and the bright green tips of new growth on the evergreens. The cattle grazing behind our abode ooze contentment in this season. Rain has fallen, but sun will follow, and I know there will be growth.


This season has taught me stillness. My front step knows me well. I sit there with the dog at my feet. Soaking in the warmth. The growing smell. The little spot in the woods that we call home. Blessed. We are blessed.


This season has helped me forget that gnawing money gut ache. It's eased that bewildered feeling of unknown. It's taught me the peace of saying no. Not 'I'm too busy', not 'Let's reschedule for next week'. Just no. I'm no richer in this season, or have no less responsibilities. I'm just more content. More appreciative of what God has given. More okay with the homebody life.


This season has taught me acceptance. I am a woman of God. A keeper of the home. A support to my husband. I have found joy in the clean house smell. Pride in boules of fresh bread. Peace as I watch the sun catch a sink full of suds. The whistling kettle. A glowing candle. Muddy footprints at the door. Home. I've grown to love to be here. I've found fulfillment in creating a space where family gathers. For the first time since I've been married, I've been a homebody. Once that would have been a confession. This season has made that a proclamation. I never knew that side of me, only the side that frantically cleaned and prepped for the next set of days on. The alternate me reveled in tidying. Found peace in organizing. Took time to stop, to breath in the intensity of how blessed I really was. The white walls became more than just that. They became an oasis, a haven, a place where I talked to my Maker. They gave comfort and familiarity like I hadn't known.


I cling to this season. Pray it sticks around. Growing seasons are fleeting in the North, they're gone in the blink of an eye. Winter sets in before you've noticed the leaves are gone, and it hangs around just a little longer than you'd like. So I cling on. To hope. To growth. To the peace and contentment that I feel settling into my bones. And if this season passes, I know another vital one will follow. And I will stand true. I'll stand proud. I will thrive.


9 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All