Take time to purchase a few copies of Pause for Moms. Or get Kindle from Amazon. Today’s blog is from that book.

 

When the days are so hot and long, and the sun so bright, we dream of winter. Glancing forward, we miss the now.

When we freeze waking up and going to sleep, and the ice covers the roads, we dream of summer. Staring ahead, we miss the now.

What if we enjoyed the season of autumn as colorful leaves begin to fall and as weather begins to lure us to grab jackets from the closet instead of complaining about the traffic and school and the price of gas?

What if we enjoyed the season of spring as flowers begin to bloom and as green grass begins to grow, instead of complaining about the government and how other people have so much more and the price of food?

Seasons. They slowly work their way toward us.

Seasons. They visit—whether or not wanted—bringing their own friends with them as they arrive.

Seasons. They leave. So quickly, so suddenly, so soon. We hardly knew it was time.

Seasons of the calendar travel that way. But so do other types of seasons.

Perhaps it’s time to invite yourself to experience life during every season. To notice each cloud, each star, each tree. To read the book, hear the song, slowly eat the meal. To engage in the conversation by listening, really listening. To pray silently and aloud, slowly and rapidly, conversationally and reverently, as the one speaking and as the one hearing. To find wonder in every season—the painful waiting, the unknown outcomes, the unwanted results, the confusing relationships, the painful goodbyes, the false accusations, the unfulfilled promises.

Seasons. When will those feelings ever go away? When will those other feelings return?

Seasons. Why can’t I find a friend since I moved into this new place? Wasn’t this where God wanted me to be? Does He not want me to have any friends?

Seasons. Will he ever look at me that way again?

Seasons. How much longer do I have to endure the medical treatment? Is living worth going through this?

For all of us, some seasons feel better than others. But each season, each day, each moment, only comes once. No matter the similarities and rituals and customs and habits, each tomorrow is new.

It helps us when we notice the world around us. It helps us to notice our seasons of life.

Rather than a hurried life ignoring the beauty or an obsessive life covering the pain, a pause to notice what season we’re really in can be helpful. Even when it is painful, it can be helpful if noticed and faced properly.

And, really, aren’t some of life’s seasons fun?