There are going to be seasons that scream at you. They’ll drag on for what seems like centuries and blackout the daylight. These seasons will shackle your limbs to their resolve and ensure no victory outside of your own mindset. It’s going to hurt. I’m so sorry, but it hurts. It hurts and there’s no solution for that kind of pain. I’m tempted to say that time helps it pass, and while that’s incredibly true, it gives no relief to someone in the middle of this season.

There are going to be seasons that break your heart. People you counted as your closest friends will abandon you. Foundations you built yourself on will begin to crack. You’ll discover that what you thought you always knew isn’t accurate and you’ll start to realize that you’re not as together as you thought you’d be by now. You’re probably going to be disappointed: in life, in relationships, and even in yourself. I want to say that you can get yourself out of this and that your heart will function at full capacity again. I want to say that it’s up to you to get yourself there. But I know better than to problem solve for you. Because your heart’s hurting. It’s breaking open and there’s no earthly remedy for a broken heart.

There are going to be seasons that are excruciating. You won’t be able to tell left from right. Whether it’s from a lack of time or too much time, it’s going to seem like it never ends. You’re going to look at yourself and those around you and want to change. Things that used to fascinate you will bore you, reliable people will become flimsy, and your direction in life will seem incredibly uncertain. You might be restless or confused. I wish I could say that I have the plans for your life right here in front of me and I know where you end up. I wish I could share your next step with you and put your mind at ease.

Seasons don’t last forever. Some last days. Some last months. Some last years, maybe even decades. Maybe you’ve been stuck in a winter season for a while now, and you’re hoping someone sees you despite your frigid circumstances.

Take heart. Seasons change.

There will be seasons that laugh with you. They’ll take you by the hand and show you things you didn’t know you needed to see. They’ll throw open the curtains in the morning and when the light streams in your heart will realize how dang excited you are to be alive. You’ll look back on your pain and remember it, but not depend on it to feel because you’ll be feeling healthy things in a healthy capacity. You’ll feel joy. You’ll feel peace. You’ll feel contentment.

There will be seasons that mend your heart. You’ll feel the fragments that were shattered start to come together with a intricacy and grace you didn’t know existed. It might feel a bit sore for a while. It’ll be uncomfortable, but also a calm, healthy pain. A pain that you happily adhere to because you know what’s happening. Your heart is learning to beat again. Your heart has life again. With newfound hope you’ll climb hilltops and take on mountains. Purpose will course through your veins like fire and seeds planted in broken memories will start to produce a harvest of wisdom.

There will be seasons of peace and restful clarity. These seasons will consist of deep breaths, hearty laughs, and a foundation of trust. Time won’t seem like the enemy anymore, but rather you two will have become closely acquainted. You’ll be riveted by what you’re doing, by what’s going on around you, and by who you’re surrounded with. The journey might be shrouded in the same mystery, but you won’t feel doubtful about it. You’ll look at your future and feel confident. This is your life: brimming with excitement and pulsing with determination.

Wherever you find yourself, your season isn’t your identity and your season isn’t permanent. There’s incredible beauty in that we serve a God who doesn’t leave us in winter but makes sure we know spring is coming. A beauty in knowing that the pain of my heart isn’t permanent, the depression of my spirit isn’t my final resolve, and the mercy kept at bay by the night will be waiting for me in the morning.

If there’s one thing you can count on about seasons it’s this: they change.


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