Grace full mama

I love fall. I love the leaves, the way they blaze impressively in all the colours of a flickering campfire; the way they crunch under my feet and the indescribable perfume they emit, sweet and woodsy and incomparable. I love the pumpkin flavoured treats and lattes, the crispy tart apples, and the cool mornings. I love that my freezers usually get filled to overflowing with animals we butcher off the farm, and the moose my family hunts and processes.

I can think of a million similies for fall. My mind overflows with metaphorical gold as I look at the trees holding tight to their blazing orange and burgundy leaves. I thought of my teens, of this beautiful stage with them, where they are independent but still so very attached to me. They have become my tribe and life with them is rewarding and so much fun. It feels like the time I have left is so brief, like the time that the trees have to hang onto those beautifully dying leaves.

Then, we had a massive windstorm. Huge gusts of 90kph swirled the leaves around us as we rushed to get horses somewhere safe and shuttle my littles into the safety of the house. In one hour, almost all the leaves had come off the trees in a blizzard of orange. I felt my heart sink perceptibly in my chest.

Now what?

Yesterday I walked down our beautiful long driveway with two kids under two in tow, asking God in a whiny tone, “Show me the beauty in this season.” This feels… dismal. It feels like a lot of things in my life when I am depressed. There is no overt joy screaming at me from the dead brown branches of these trees. What is this season showing me?

“So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” 2 Cor. 4:18

“It is about the promise.” He whispered to me in the place where only he can speak. And it hit me the way only a revelation from him can, flooding the place that had been empty with a total understanding all at once. This season of dead looking trees, where the world lies dormant, just surviving the cold and snow; this season is the one that we spend most of our lives in. The trees aren’t really dead. They look dead. But they aren’t. They will erupt once again, faithfully, with tender green leaves in the spring. The flowers will bloom, the ground will thaw. The beauty in this season is the promise of what is yet to come.

Have you ever been in a season where you have felt like your golden leaves have been blown to the ground, and you are there, leafless and brown, devoid of beauty or hope? I sure have. In fact I think I feel that way with my teens as often as I feel like we are in our golden stage!

I so badly want the growth, the fruit, the closeness with Jesus and the giftings that come along with that. I want fellowship. I want to be that breath of peaceful fresh air to other people, smiling serenely as I send jets of streaming Holy Spirit light out my fingertips. Usually, that is not my experience. I am in winter. the enemy is fighting against me like a negative 40 night and 6 feet of snow. Sometimes I don’t have so much as one brave little leaf showing; but there is promise. There is the promise of slow and steady growth as I stay connected to my source. There is the promise of eternity bound up inside of me.

So… If you feel like you are in a winter for your soul, full of dull brown trees and terrible cold, take heart. He is working in the unseen places. Spring is coming.