Picking your seasons

Fatigue doesn't usually get the best of me, especially when it comes to "mere" walking. However, I've done some serious hiking and walking in the past couple days, so this afternoon after lunch with a friend and a few hours of walking around the city, I found myself in the middle of Paris, just outside the Louvre, with a serious need to sit down. Happily, I found a park bench in the middle of a tree covered area and away from the crowds. Sitting there, I finally realized it was autumn. I love this season, and I haven't had a real autumn for a couple years. The smells, the sights of browns and oranges, and the sound of crunching leaves all came rushing in, accompanied by a flood of happy fall memories. I really wish we had "designer-climates".

I'd like summer to start around the 10^th of April and autumn to gradually edge-in near the end of September. It would stay warm during the day and cool off at night until about December 12^th. Between the 12^th and 15^th it could transition to winter; the 15^th should be the first snow, and this should promptly end with the coming of spring on January 1^st. Also, I'd like my summers hot but with no humidity, my autumns dry and sunny, my winters with plenty of snow but without interrupting my travel plans, and my springs with rainy mornings followed by bright sun in the afternoon. If that isn't too much to ask…

It is also nice when the weather matches your mood—like raining when you are depressed, or being sunny when you feel energetic. Being that I find myself in the middle of yet another transition, it is nice to be surrounded by the signs of a transitional season. Somehow, seeing the trees get ready for winter also makes it easier to ready my heart for this upcoming shift. I'm not headed into a winter by any means (especially not temperature speaking), but I do feel a sense of loss as I leave France.

On the train up this morning, I felt tempted toward a line of thinking that I already knew to be faulty—a comparison of ease of ministry and perceived effectiveness in ministry. In such a short time I grew so attached to people here and had so many opportunities for ministry that I really enjoyed. I also feel my heart pulled by the fact that I'm leaving some people right in the middle of their trials. All of this tugs toward wanting to think that I'm more effective in this environment, that I'm more equipped for ministry in this context, or that my ministry gifts would show so much more naturally here than in Mali.

However, though far from a seasoned veteran, I've weathered enough to recognize this as the resistance of the heart in the face of painful transition—in the face of goodbyes and uncertain "see-you-agains." These are, of course, not the moments to make decisions, but rather to coax the heart into its autumn, to allow some things to fall to the ground, and to tie the sights, sounds, and smells to cherished memories made along the way. To insist that it remain summer is to try to play God, and then ministry becomes a worship of self and ability instead of the One we set out to serve. We are not, after all, the Designer of our seasons.