We are in the first days of Spring. The trees of the forest preserve across the street have yet to develop the chartreuse whisper of buds at the tips of their branches. Today I am given one more Sunday to watch the deer pass at a through the thicket while other wildlife scampers about. Once the foliage leafs, their activity will be hidden from me for the glorious months of summer. Mornings with my coffee and solitude to watch the woodland are few in recent weeks. I’m typically off to work before the sun rises. This season has made mornings of Sabbath rest all the more precious. Winter is like this…

Many bemoan the cold months of Wisconsin winter. Aside from the temperatures, the short days can dampen moods. Deeper depression can impact others as a fog slowly rising from the ground. Eventually one can barely see where they’ve been or where they are headed. A season of winter can be oppressive without the hope of spring. Without the hope of much. Depression is like this…

I’m learning to appreciate this season of slow. Perhaps it is the genetic makeup of my Scandinavian heritage. Perhaps it is my introverted nature appreciating a season to recharge. Most likely, it is the grace of age seasoning my soul with cyclical patterns of the seasons. I’ve described myself as an Ecclesiastical person— a bit cynical yet knowing to all things there is a purpose under heaven. Life is like that…

Ask any person who has graduated to midlife if they would trade wisdom for youth— few will wish for most for agility. There is a peace that comes only with the passing of time. It is true, for many, the struggles of mental health have no sense of time or seasons. My heart breaks for those struggling in such a way. My burden extends to those isolating as a sense of safety. I understand and also know the false sense of security solitude can become. Our world has become this…

The darkness of life has brought me through seasons of discovery. Times of learning who I am, most importantly, who I am in my connection to my Creator. There were times in life that I cried out to God, “WHERE ARE YOU?!” In hindsight, time and time again, I have realized the purpose of the valley. A purpose for the season. To see the forest for the architecture of the trees rather than their temporal foliage that will be amazing then fade and fall with the change of seasons. God’s sovereignty and grace are like that…

I hope you’re able to see the glimmer of stars if you’re in a season of darkness.

I hope you’re able to see the forest for the trees.

I hope you know your Creator has a plan and purpose for every season.

I hope you’re able to find your way to your Creator who has always had purpose for your life, even if you’re struggling to see it yourself. Life is worth the pattern and purpose of seasons. Hold on. Each of us is like this…

You are not alone.