Seasons

This past July, my brother got me an Amazon Echo for my birthday. I hadn’t known I wanted one, but apparently he was sure I did. Fortunately, it came just as we were preparing to leave the wilds of the Maryland mountains (with their frustratingly slow satellite internet) for the positively sublime world of high speed internet. And thus the ability to unleash the potential of Alexa.

It didn’t take long for my kids to realize Alexa was just as much at their fingertips too. Call Uncle Jordan? No problem. Soon they were calling without us even knowing. Research the details of the founding fathers (we’re big Hamilton fans)? In a sec. Play that song you love, 54 times in a row? Sure, no problem.

That’s how the song “Seasons of Love” got put on nearly automatic reply in our house for days on end.

Now, any song will get annoying if played over and over, but it must be said that “Seasons of Love” has a pretty high replay-annoyance threshold. Seriously. Don’t trust people who don’t like this song. J

It also felt to me like a fitting soundtrack to what our family has been experiencing over these past two months—the upending and replanting of so much of our lives. New jobs for me and my husband. New schools for the girls. Moving to the other side of the state (kind of). So much change. So quickly.

So it has been good to reflect on seasons. And to take it one step further, to be reminded of God’s faithfulness through all these seasons.

525,600 minutes. One year. Well, a non leap-year. But you get the point.

Some years it is overwhelming to consider the transitions—the changing of seasons—that is possible in just those 525,600 minutes.

I’m not going to get sentimental about change. There are lots of great bumper stickers and cute sayings about change. I hate at least half of them.

Change is hard. Even when it comes by choice and welcomed, it is hard. But even then, we are reminded of the domino effect of change. The learnings we have from fields like family systems theory that reminds us that because of the interconnectedness of our relationships and lives, a change in one area (good or bad) will reshape other areas. Change is hard. It is also at best controlled chaos.

People have of course been asking me lately how things are going. We’re nearly three weeks into our big move. New starts. So far everyone has gotten to school and work on time, and been fed. Win.

Beyond that, I’ve told people it kind of feels like I’m a soda can that someone picked up, shook, and set down. I don’t mean the “I’m about to explode” part. I mean the, “I’m just waiting for things to settle out a bit” part.

Some people like the changing of seasons. I’m good with the whole idea of changing seasons. I’ve felt God at work in all seasons. I just tend to get impatient with the transition and want to get to the coming “season.” After all, we’ve only got 525,600 minutes. Why waste any more than needed waiting?

So I give thanks for this new season, even as I wait (hopefully just a bit longer) for it to feel a bit more arrived. I mourn for the season past, but I know God’s faithfulness that brought be through the seasons thus far will guide me through this one unfolding.

Maybe I’ll ask Alexa to play that song one more time.

NOTE: If you are interested in other songs that might be reassuring in times of changing seasons, here are some of my recent favorites (there aren’t many—I play these on repeat—my daughters learned well):

“Hills and Valleys,” by Tauron Wells

“Still,” by Hilary Scott and the Scott Family

“Take Another Step,” Steven Curtis Chapman

“Rise Up,” Andra Day

The entire Hamilton soundtrack, but especially, “Alexander Hamilton,” “My Shot,” “History Has Its Eyes on You,” and “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story”