Several years ago (I'm going to show my age here a bit) there was a company that would hold parties where they would do an assessment on your skin tones to determine what colors looked best on you. They categorized their findings by the four seasons. They would say, "You're a spring!" or "You're a summer!". It was quite the rage back in the 80's! So if someone asked me then, "What is your season?" I would say I was a spring, which meant I was to wear pastels. So not only did I have the big 80's hair, I had the lovely peach outfit to accompany it!! I will spare you the picture!
But now when we think of our "season", it has nothing to do with the color of clothing we wear, but rather where we are in our life. Are we young and single? Married with little ones running about? Empty nesters?
Lately I have been pondering my "season". I, like so many others my age, am a full time caregiver of an elderly parent. I care for my mother-in-law who lives with my husband and myself. She has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's with Lewy Bodies Dementia. She is still in the moderate stage of the disease, so has been able to maintain some of her independence, for which we are very thankful. But each day, we see a tiny bit more of that independence slip away as she progresses in the illness.
This new "season" has brought many changes into my life, as you can imagine. I see my own freedoms slip away. I now need to schedule my errands and outings with friends and family around the days I have my part time assistant here to help. And sometimes I find that it's just easier to stay home. I don't mean for this to sound like a pitty party. That is not my intent. (Trust me, I've had my share of those parties all on my own!) What I want to say is, this is a SEASON. Seasons change. They morph into the next. It's the way God created them. Each season has it's purpose, and each one is dependant on the one that comes before it, and looks to the one that comes behind it.
There are days when I feel like I'm in the "dead of winter" in my heart. I don't feel growth. I feel dormant. I sometimes allow the bitterness of the season to engulf me.
Amy Carmichael referred to it in her writings as "The bare bush in the snow". She said, "You were like a leafy bush, and many little things came for you to shelter. You were not great or important, but you could help those little things. And it was the joy of your life to help them.
Now you can do nothing at all.
Some desolation - illness, monetary loss, or something you cannot talk about to anyone, a trouble no one seems to understand - has overwhelmed you. All your green leaves have gone.
Now you cannot shelter even the least little bird. You are like a bush, with it's bare twigs. No use to anyone.
That is what you think.
But look again at this bare bush. Look at the delicate tracery of it's shadow lines on the snow. The sun is shining behind the bush and so every little twig is helping to make something that is very beautiful. Perhaps other eyes, that you do not see, are looking on it too, wondering what can be made of sun and snow and poor bare twigs?...
The spring will come again, for after winter there is always spring.
When will spring come? When will your bush be green again? When will the little birds you love come back to you? We don't know. But we do know that sun and snow are working together for good. And these hard times will all pass as a dream in the night. All that seemed lost will be restored."
As I think about my season, another thought comes to mind; the season my mother-in-law is in. Her "bare bush". How dormant must she feel? Her "spring" will be an eternal one! But for now, she is here in her dead of winter. In need of comfort. In need of care. In need of sun.
A "little bird"? In need of shelter from a leafy bush?
So in the midst of this season, engulfed by the bitter cold, I will strive to let these words seep down, like fingers of sunlight to refresh my soul: "He will not fail you, who is the God of the sun, and the snow."
So, what is your season?
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