Sometimes the ending of seasons is harder than the beginning. Even if it’s not a particularly good season, sometimes we get comfortable there. Comfort and complacency are good friends.
Other times we don’t even realize the season is ending–or that we were still in it–until something changes. We’re just going on about our way–until we’re not. Then we’re just wondering why that came to a halt when nothing has been done to change it.
Seasons of grief, seasons of friendship, seasons of faith, seasons of hope, they ebb and flow. They overlap. We don’t always see a definite beginning and end. There are times we don’t even notice the melding of the seasons.
As I drove Monday, I watched as the clouds turned from dark to light, taking us from total downpour to gorgeous sun. A dividing line was present in the clouds.
I think I know why God doesn’t give us such a dividing line in life: we’d spend our time waiting, watching for the clouds to change, wondering when the rain would stop, rather than living and learning the lessons He’s giving us.