Part 3 of 3 • Continued from Part 2
 
“We planted the seed while the tears of our grief soaked the ground.
The sky lost its sun, and the world lost its green to lifeless brown.
Now the chilling wind has turned the earth hard as stone.
And silently seed rise beneath ice and snow.
And my heart’s heavy now, but I’m not letting go of this hope I have.
That tells me Spring is coming.”

……………………………….~ ‘Spring Is Coming’ by Steven Curtis Chapman • ‘Beauty Will Rise’ CD
 
The seasons of life.
Sounds like a good name for a soap opera, huh? Yet, we all have them. Metaphorically, to name a few, they may represent times of growth and happiness, or periods of accomplishment and success, or perhaps a season of darkness, pain and despair. If you were to ask which season applies to my life today, I would have to say that it is transitioning from winter to spring. Thus the lyrics from the song above. Ironically it’s also the time of year in which I make this entry – early March. It is cold outside, and stormy today. Yet as I have been traveling the past few days I’ve noted the almond orchards adjacent to the interstate are in full bloom. The rolling hills which separate the Bay Area of California from the vast Central Valley are presently a lush mixture of vivid greens. Wildflowers are beginning to dapple the fields with an array of color and long-dormant daffodils have blossomed throughout my neighborhood.
 
In my previous writing, I detailed how I’d gotten off course spiritually a number of years ago. I am sensitive to not wishing to come off here as being stuck in self-pity on the one hand or standing on a soapbox on the other. The truth of the matter is, in the years since, my life has in many ways been in steady decline. I have continued to experience loss in a number of areas including the end of my marriage, my decision to separate from the faith community I had loved for many years, leaving the ministry, coming to an age that I am no longer able to physically do much of the work I’d done in years past, resulting in financial decline, experiencing difficulty in relationships, and finally – just as I thought I’d hit the proverbial bottom – the loss of my child. The bottom just plain dropped away with that one.
 
Some of these events have been as a direct result of my own rebellious heart and poor decisions which have, in the final analysis, resulted in my reaping what I had sown. Some I have chalked up to the adverse circumstances which are simply part and parcel to this life. Still, some events I cannot and will not comprehend on this side of heaven. None have escaped the notice of the sovereign Lord of the universe in whom we live and move and have our being. Rather, it is my firm belief that my circumstances are part of God’s divine plan for my life. There are mysteries in all of this, too – perhaps I shall explore them another time. While I believe God allows and at times purposely aligns things in my life – yes, even painful things, I do not believe His heart is that of a cruel ogre who takes pleasure in knocking people around. It saddens me when people blame God when much of the adversity we face is the result of living in a fallen world. Way back in my bible college days, one of my instructors lectured, “God is far more interested in what He wants to accomplish in and through your life than how comfortable you are at this moment.”
I have not been comfortable for a long while.
 
The Calendar
In December 2009 I experienced something of an epiphany. Standing in my livingroom, I happened to glance at the large wall calendar adjacent to my couch. In the moments to follow, there was a break, a moment of clarity inside as my mind wrapped around what I was seeing – and what it meant. I focused on one word. July. Why would my calendar show that particular month? I was reaching for understanding. Then it dawned on me. I had cleaned my apartment in late July in preparation for my sister’s spending the night before we headed to Oregon and a family reunion the following day. As I’d cleaned I had noticed that my calendar at that time was dated ‘April’, the month Jessica had passed – and my life had, for any useful purpose, suddenly stopped. I updated the calendar and now, months later, I was standing there staring at ‘July 2009′, wondering why I had not noticed until then – when it’s something I’m normally fairly prompt at changing. In retrospect I see that point in time as the first sign of the thaw which would come to signify an ending to the deepest ‘winter’ of my life. “I need to get going, to begin living again!” was the singular thought in my mind on that December day.
 
Much has transpired since. Through the inward change brought about by that moment and the many decisions which followed – spiritually, physically, emotionally – I have indeed begun to live once more. As a result, outward change is coming about. I am sensing God’s guidance. I am continuing to work through times of grief and will do so to one degree or another for the balance of my life. Yet as many close to me who have experienced great loss in their lives have encouraged, my grief is changing as well. I am at the same time proactively bringing this chapter of my life to a close. There have been many sorrows, many blessings, many lessons. I am certain the future will hold the same – yet one critical element that for me has been lacking through these past months and years is purpose. While I do not yet fully understand what the shape of my life shall be or exactly what that purpose is, I am moving forward and have prayerfully arrived at some major choices. The first has been to allow Jesus to be Lord in my life once more, to be as single-minded as I am able. Simultaneously, ‘doors’ have been closing for me in the Bay Area. Out of that has been the decision to start afresh in a new area, to physically move on. ‘Doors’ have been opening for that, too. In three weeks I will have packed and stored most of my belongings. At that time I will relocate to the town where I was raised, northwest of Los Angeles. I believe this move to be a transient one – just what is beyond is unknown to me for now and that’s okay.
 
When I am finished packing, moving my things to storage and cleaning, I shall have one remaining task to perform before physically closing the door to my apartment. I will take down the calendar which still reads, ‘July 2009′ from my livingroom wall, and patch the nail hole where it hung. This, to me, signifies far more than the physical act implies. I will be closing the door to far more than my apartment. As I consider The Winds of Change in my life, the last line of the lyrics from the song I quote at the beginning of this writing come to mind.
The words are eloquently sung, “Spring is coming, it won’t be long now, it’s just about here.” ◊
 
 

The Winds of Change
• Part 1
• Part 2