Seasons move across the face of the earth as a cloud across the sky or a breeze acr0ss a meadow. Colors change, air chills, hearts churn in response to the ever-cycling beauty of creation. A heart may respond to the natural seasons, but seasons exist that are far beyond these. There are seasons of life and of living whose changes rest not upon the leaves and the air, but upon hearts and souls of men and women. These seasons, like others, will cycle at times, but unlike the rest will be defined by changes that simply remain. Natural seasons move in a circle while seasons of living move but one way. They move like an arrow or perhaps like a spiral, but seasons of life never return to exactly what they were before.
I find myself entering a change of seasons. I find that there is a change in my heart, new longings and desires that have not been in me before. These have come about, not overnight, but slowing and gradually, as the seasons change. Perhaps this is a transition from one season to another, or perhaps it is in and of itself a season the way that fall and spring are transitions. I guess there is childhood and manhood with adolescence in between. But, it would seem that there is yet another transition season between adolescence and manhood. It is into that season which I beliefe my life is moving.
A new season. A new song. The clouds are floating. The breeze is blowing.