Dear God,
Thank You for moments of celebration!
Love,
Grace
There is a season for everything. It’s how the world runs. It’s how God in His wisdom designed life to be.
I know on the calendar it says it’s Spring already, but sometimes it feels more like Winter or Autumn and sometimes even Summer.
I don’t think seasons are so linear as to adhere to a strict calendar date, but it goes to mark the beginning of something new and the end of something old. It’s a reminder that if you’re happy to enjoy it because that moment isn’t forever and if you’re sad to have hope because that moment isn’t forever either.
I have come such a long way from where I was physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I still look the same on the outside. You’d still be able to recognize me, but I know that something has changed in me.
It wasn’t overnight. There wasn’t a deadline or even an ETA for this to happen, but as I asked God to change the season God took on the greater challenge and changed me.
Sometimes feeling numb in your fingers from the biting wind reminds you that a warm hand can hold you through it. Sometimes torrential rains remind you of how water can bring life and destroy it. Sometimes the sun burn that makes you sensitive to touch forces you to remember that even a beautiful day comes with pain.
A season of preparation? What I think I have now doesn’t hold enough weight for what God has will be doing in my life. Sometimes I wonder if I’m going backwards when old habits spring up. But God reminds me that sometimes Summer has rain and some Fall days can be blazing hot.
God has given me the gift of walking away from people, places, and opportunities that weren’t the best for me. It wasn’t that they were bad. It wasn’t that they weren’t good. It just wasn’t for me. It wasn’t what my life needed to fully reach its purpose.
God has given me the ability to mourn yet the ability to accept and let go. It’s amazing how you can hold both joy and grief so closely. What keeps me from tumbling over from the weight of either is who holds me.
No one has seen what each person has gone through. The father who left a gaping wound. The mother who’s never happy. The sibling that resembles a prodigal son that looks like they’ll never return home. The child who will never get to meet you. The “no” when you needed the “yes”.
It’s when you look around yourself and feel like no one will ever see you, and that this season is actually your life now that Jesus comes and understands you.
The season where you feel alone, God understands you. There is no one who knows your tears like Jesus. There is no one like Jesus for you.
There’s this song I love “Bigger than I Thought” by Passion and Sean Curran. It sings “Speak to me when the silence steals my voice, You understand me. Come to me in the valley of unknown, You understand me.” In my seasons, the uniqueness of how they play out and how I am, is never too far from God’s grasp.
I think what means the most to me these days is not so much that a season is difficult. It’s the thought that anyone understands my pain that allows me to keep going. No one knows me like Jesus. I could try to explain my life, and people can have empathy. It’s very kind of them, and I am so grateful to be heard but deeper than that I need to be understood.
Jesus says, “I know what it’s like to be forgotten and uninvited.”
Jesus says, “I know what it’s like to be different.”
Jesus says, “I know what it’s like to want a different plan for your life.”
Jesus says, “I know what it’s like to suffer.”
But Jesus also says “I know what it’s like to come back from a grave.”
Jesus knows a good comeback story! Just like He experienced our pain, we can experience His freedom. It’s not a fair comparison though, we don’t choose our suffering but Jesus chose to experience it for us.
A season might feel unfair because we were forced into it by circumstances, but Jesus chose unfairness. Jesus chose the seasons we all hate and beg to get out of because He wants to understand us and free us.
I feel like this new season of my life is not what I pictured because God had something bigger, more grand than imaginable, in store for my life. Thank You, God, for not limiting my dreams to what I could think of but expanding them so that they could be part of Your story and plans.
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