The seasons are about to change with the calendar this coming weekend.
The carefree days of the hot summer sun have already been traded in for blustery winds, falling leaves and a chill or dampness in the air. The daylight is diminishing, drawing us innately to huddle in our homes like a caterpillar to it’s cocoon.
Soon we will be scanning for recipes to fill eager tummies when we bow and give thanks.
Followed by the night of dressing up as who we are not.
Followed by remembering those who gave fragments of their days, turning into all of their lives, for freedom.
And then the Christmas season of anticipating, hoping, waiting.
We are always going to be waiting …
As this season of darkness draws upon us, and our days, it is sometimes difficult to remember the light. When life’s circumstances may be equally dark and dismal, it is then that waiting for the return of the light can get nearly unbearable.
The New Year will come.
The day of lovers will arrive.
The break in the spring will happen.
Dead roots in the ground, hard and lifeless in their dirty humus.
Humus … “A brown or black organic substance consisting of partially or wholly decayed vegetable or animal matter that provides nutrients for plants and increases the ability of soil to retain water” (freedictionary.com).
Life … from death.
And then the Easter season of death and rising will transform into one of new promise.
The One we have been waiting for.
But this season …
… these are the days of being still and knowing, not that we are waiting for Him, but that He IS God …
… even while we wait.