Seasons of the soul

There are times, unbeknownst to me, when the seasons change without me taking notice: a chill settles into the air, buds form on trees, or mornings bring warmer temperatures and the change is so subtle that I barely notice it.  But there are also moments when I'm acutely aware of the change of the seasons. Those are the moments when it feels like spring (or summer, fall, winter) has arrived.

I looked up the lyrics to a song recently, and realized that I misheard the words. I incorrectly heard:

I believe in every season of the soul.

This simple misinterpretation kept swirling around in my brain—it was a new concept to me. Regardless of whether we take notice, we can't deny the changing seasons of the soul, no more than we can deny the changing seasons around us. And yet, many people (myself included) live much of their lives looking at the world at eye level, never looking upward, downward, or inward. Perhaps its easier to intently gaze upon and comment on all the visual parts of this world (and our lives) yet neglect the rich existence beneath the surface. Easier, but not better. If (when) we do neglect all that lies beneath the surface of our lives, we miss so much. In part, because:

Every season of the soul brings a new stirring of the soul.

Lately, like many others this time of year, I feel compelled to deep clean and tidy. Our home? Yes. The closet and pantry and bathroom vanity? Yes. But also—I feel the need to tidy my heart, not to make my heart more presentable to the outward eye, but to ward off bitterness and throw off worry's weight. Perhaps these inward soul stirrings happen alongside the changing seasons because they need to. I love that our God created a world with seasons, almost as if we would need a little nudging time and again to make necessary changes to our homes and habits, but also so that we feel inclined to tidy our hearts. Oh, that we would not be numb to the seasons and all that each has to offer in revealing more of God's steadfast character.

• Autumn, to encourage thankfulness for warmth in homes and community
• Winter, to cozy up and lean into the joy found only in Him
• Summer, to spark spontaneous worship in response to a clear summer night
• Spring, to tidy the cobwebs and pockets of bitterness or gloom from our hearts.

So far in this spring season, I tidied up, set aside a pile of items to be donated, and set out a new bright table runner and floral fabric napkins. But what a shame it would be if those are the only changes I make this spring. Instead, I'm going to combat any worries (new or otherwise) with praying scripture over loved ones, I'm going to get outside, and I'm going to pray that Jesus would tether me closer to Himself with each passing season.

This weekend, as we commemorate the suffering, sacrifice, and ultimate resurrection of Jesus, may we throw off any residual weight of winter, so we may feel only the weight of our Savior's love.

P.S. — The seasons have little effect on my knitting habits, as you can see from the photos. :) I'm still working on my Anna Vest.