I can look back on this blog, and pinpoint where I wrote at this exact time last year that 'I didn't want summer to end; it's bittersweet' yada yada yada... but this year; oh. I'm ready.
I love that we even get to experience seasons; God knew, He knew before time began, before He had Jesus create everything from scraps of nothingness, that we in our limited ant-likeness, would get bored, easily, so quickly, and that we would crave this vital change in environment. Like clockwork. Hence, a love for seasons, and another notch of worship for the Creator.
I anticipate and soak up seasonal change, in its familiarity, consistency and comfort, but I equally and vehemently detest and will resist the unknown kind of change, the kind that makes my stomach flip over, the kind that brings us all to our knees. You know the kind... facing a potential job loss (or the job loss itself), a shock to your system, to your relationship, grieving the death of a loved one, a move, standing at the edge of a huge life milestone, or when your 'friend' record skips and it ruins the whole song. This summer, and now beginning of fall, I'm learning to trust God, even during times of detestable change, to let Him help me choke out the fear, to crucify it.
I want to 'be ready', eager, to embrace the next step, whatever and wherever it leads (in a variety of circumstances). And it's seriously liberating, because I am the runner in pain who sees the finish line, because my days are becoming less fearful, more hopeful. And it didn't come from one huge single pious prayer; it's coming from daily reliance, daily baby prayers, the daily cry for more strength. Literally, like an unashamed kid begging unabashedly for help.
This summer I learned a lot. About myself. About God. About our relationship. About friends and 'friends'. Esperanza. Trials. Perseverance. And aside from wishing I could Men-In-Black-Flashy-Thing a few things away, like 'Psych! That didn't happen!', I can look over my shoulder into a setting summer sun and see the good kind of change sprouting in my life, the honest, stable kind that masks fear with hope, the inner growth given life by Someone else, that soothes, the kind only the best Gardener can cultivate ... and then maintain.