One “Season” Following Another

The prompt for our Five-Minute Friday Writing Group today is “Season.” The very first thing that popped into my head was the song Sunrise-Sunset from the play “Fiddler on the Roof.” I was blessed to be in that play in high school and my dad blessed me by singing it at my wedding. If you never have heard it – go to YouTube and listen.

What does that have to do with the 80’s hairstyle picture and shoulder pads? I’m getting to that. This picture is of me, my mom, my dad’s mom and my daughter sometime in the late 80’s. We, on a couple of occasions, did a ladies’ day called “Seasons of our Lives.”

My daughter, represented spring, a time of new beginning and growth. She read the scripture. I was tasked to talk about spring and summer. Summer represented the time of our life where it can get hot! So many things happening. Families are born. Working! Trying to manage it all.

My mom represented fall. A transition stage where life slows down some. Time of empty nesting. Retirement.

Nanny represented winter. Greying, more health issues (for some), loved one dying, and contemplating your own death.

Short version, but hopefully you get the idea. “One season following another, laden with happiness and tears.” As I look at this picture, I see the four seasons. Each one with its good and bad traits. Not one season is better than the other but each is needed for the next.

I’m thankful to live in a region where we have all four seasons. There are things I like and dislike about each one. Just as in life there are tears and laughter. Looking at this picture reminds me how quickly each one flies by.

O Lord, please help me to hold on to You in each season so that I can be prepared for the next. I know that I can with You as my shield and defender. You created the seasons of our lives and I am thankful. Amen.

6 thoughts on “One “Season” Following Another

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  1. I live in de Islands, mon,
    leastways in my heart.
    Winter’s dead and fall is gone,
    and spring will never start
    here upon my summer beach
    where the tourists broil.
    Rum is never out of reach,
    and I do not spin nor toil
    ’cause God made me as I am,
    feet up and mind in neutral,
    no need to put up silly sham
    of energy so futile
    that would make life speed away
    ‘stead of sunshine every day.

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