A Time For Everything

Outside a steady rainfall weeps from the murky clouds overhead. Fallen leaves wet with moisture scatter throughout our yard while many more journey on the stream of water cascading down our street. I have been reticent to embrace the change of seasons. While I take deep pleasure in the vibrant colors fall provides, the smell of dried leaves and their crackle when little feet prance on them, and the lovely foods - apples, pumpkins, squash - which will be used to create such delicacies as pies, breads, and comfort soups, I have longed to hold on to summer. "Too soon. Too soon," I want to cry, as I wake in the dark, fumble to find jackets, socks, long sleeved shirts and footy pajamas, not to mention my faithful friends, a pair of black Doc Martens whose heels are permanently crushed from wear. While I know that warmer weather is imminent, I can feel the change in the sun's heat and cannot help but mourn the arrival of chilled air, the closing of storm windows, and the return of electric heaters and blankets. Midwest winters are interminable and cruel with winds that are often excruciatingly harsh. From November until May, it is downright cold. "Not yet. Please, not yet."

Despite my reservations, after quietly creeping down my stairs the other morning and discovering the breaking of light through the sky, while surrounded by silence and the remnants of darkness, I felt the beauty of the change as the liveliness and bustle of summer quietly shifts into the hushed and peaceful tones of autumn. And then last night, as my husband worked late, and my three sons and I surrounded our dining room table to share a meal of homemade chicken soup and rice as the evening eclipsed the day, I experienced a profound peace. As darkness enclosed our home, lights illuminated the inside, dinner candles flickered (Thomas often likes it to be "romantic"), the drone of ancient Orthodox hymns lulled in the background, sounds from outside were subdued, and I was thankful for the seasonal change and it's invitation to move inward, to slow down, and find rest.

To everything there is a season,

and a time for every matter under heaven.

A time to give birth

And a time to die;

A time to plant

And a time to pluck what is planted.

A time to kill

And a time to heal;

A time to pull down

And a time to build up.

A time to weep

And a time to laugh;

A time to mourn

And a time to dance.

A time to throw stones

And a time to gather stones;

A time to embrace

And a time to refrain from embracing.

A time to seek

And a time to lose;

A time to keep

And a time to throw away.

A time to tear

And a time to sew;

A time to keep silent

And a time to speak.

A time to love

And a time to hate;

A time of war

And a time of peace.