We have had an incredible summer in the Pacific Northwest. One of the best on record. We had stretches of not days, but weeks and even (gasp) months of warm, sunny weather. The kids and I bought pool passes to our local aquatic facility for the first time, thinking that we actually had a chance to use them enough to pay for themselves. And I think we did just that, barely. It was glorious. I’m a California transplant, and I love the northwest as my adoptive home, but usually summer leaves me a bit cranky. Not so this year. This year was simply glorious- shorts and tank tops and pools and sunglasses and lazy mornings in the garden and beach picnics…ahhhh.
And now the fall comes. And with it the grey skies and rain. So far, it’s been a gentle transition. The slanted light, clear and crisp and warm, has not yet given way to grey and wet. But I know it’s coming. And I am learning not to fight it, not to dread and mourn the passing of summer. There is a magical, silver tone in the Pacific Northwest air come fall and winter. The longer I live here, the more I can appreciate the beauty of these changes in season, real seasons, and I embrace them knowing that it’s all part of a necessary cycle.
The older I get, the more I also see these seasons in my own life. For years, when my first three were babes, I bucked and kicked against so many responsibilities of motherhood and homemaking. I wanted to be out in the world. I wanted to be Making Something. Part of that was a process I had to go through to discover what my real priorities were, and what lies I had adopted from the world about the value of a stay-at-home-mom. Doubtless those early years with three under four and a husband deployed to a war zone were exhausting and difficult and draining and I rightly sought balance between pouring myself out and trying to nurture myself and use all my gifts. But now I know that everything is a season. And seasons change. They bring new graces, new lessons, new challenges and areas of growth and opportunities for service.
So I am content to be where I am right now- creatively, spiritually, physically, and in business. Even though I have dreams and hopes and goals that may extend beyond this season, I know there will be time. And I know I will never get back the morning dogpiles in our bed, or the late night chats with our daughter, or baseball and soccer games every weekend. If I miss them, they will be gone. So for now, I will take what comes my way and be grateful for all the abundance of this life in every season. Even winter, in it”s seeming barrenness is a time of rest, recovery and gestation.
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