A few days ago on my early morning walk, I noticed some leaves drifting down from the neighborhood trees. A few leaves scattered in the breeze, falling right in front of me. I happily crunched over them because when the trees start undressing, I remember that the heat of a long, discouraging summer will certainly come to an end. Seasons are seasons, after all, and they don’t last forever. The changing of the foliage in Missouri during the fall is always a welcome respite for those of us who have sweated through the thick humidity and swarms of ever-present mosquitos.
Sometimes I’ve wondered why God created things the way He did. Why day and night? Why four seasons? Why the divisions in days and years? When you read the creation account in Genesis 1-2, you see God’s intentional design in separating light from dark, day from night, rotations and revolutions that give us clear distinctions between beginnings and endings. I can’t pretend to understand the mind of God, but I see His kindness written into the created order. When we’re living through dry or painful seasons, we can look at the world around us and know that nothing in this life lasts forever. Seasons change. Sometimes we weep; sometimes we rejoice. Sometimes we do both at the same time—an act of faith that only makes sense in Christ. There is a time for everything under heaven, Scripture tells us, and I find that knowing there are allotted times for weeping and joy held in place by a good, strong hand helps me to persevere through the harder seasons. If everything is appointed or allowed by God, we can trust the one who holds all our times in His hands (Ps. 31:15).
When we lift our eyes to the hills to see where our help comes from, the hills might be full of leafy, full trees. The next time we look, they could be emptied of all their greenery. The source of our help doesn’t change—our help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth—but we can see from the changing appearance of the hills He has made that in one season we might cry out for help with tears and anxiety, another with thankfulness and peace. Seasons remind us that our circumstances won’t last forever, but the source of our help will never change. He keeps us (see Psalm 121:8).
One day when we are in the new heaven and new earth with God forever, we’ll not need the divisions of days or years to remind us how to persevere. We won’t need to look to the changing of seasons to remember that we can hold fast. We’ll be done holding fast. We’ll be kept forever in the unchanging presence and safety of God. All that will be left for us will be joy everlasting.
If you are living with pain, deferred hopes, or difficult circumstances that just won’t change, look at the seasons and know that your trials won’t outlast our eternity with Christ. One day, He’ll return and make all things right, and because we have been buried with Him in baptism, we’ll also be raised with Him through faith in the powerful working of God who raised Him from the dead (see Col 2:12). Here’s what it comes down to: we have a hope that lasts longer than our earthly trials and tribulations. All will be set to right when we rise from the broken ground and breathe with resurrected lungs. The end of perseverance will come for us, and until then we can hold on to the Savior who holds steadfastly to us. As Don Carson said, “I’m not suffering from anything that a good resurrection can’t fix.”
I took another walk this morning to work out the kinks in my aching body. The air was warmer than I’d like, sticky still with humidity and moisture. Fall isn’t quite here yet; it feels far off when the air clings to your skin like a heavy, wet blanket. But the trees tell me it’s coming. The ache in my spine pulses with the reminder that my body is wasting away with the passage of time. But the inner self is being renewed each day that I look to the hills for my Helper. He’s preparing me for what comes next. I can’t see it yet, but one day I will. A leaf floats down from a yellowing tree, silently grazing the ground in front of me. Change is coming. This is what the seasons say.
“So we do not lose heart. Though the outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light and momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” -2 Cor. 4:16-18
Seasons remind us that our circumstances won’t last forever, but the source of our help will never change. Share on XGlenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and lives in rural Southeast Missouri where she tries and fails to keep up with her two energetic sons. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence (P&R) and Everyday Faithfulness (Crossway), and Memorizing Scripture (Moody). Connect with her on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.
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