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| Seasons
of Life
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Life cannot
be defined. It is–and that’s all there is to it. Oh, I’m
aware that the dictionary give s a definition of life. But
listen to it: “The interval of time between birth and
death.” How vague.
Lots of people have said lots of things about life.
Shakespeare said of it, “The web of our life is a mangled
yarn.” John Ruskin said, “There is no wealth but life.”
And Henry Wadsworth Longfellow succinctly said: “Lives of
great men all remind us. We can make our lives sublime, And,
departing, leave behind us, Footprints in the sand of time.”
But none of these really tells us much about life. Probably
the most incisive statement ever made about the origin of life
is the one made by Moses in Genesis 2:7. “And the Lord God
formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his
nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.”
After that, life is pretty much inexplicable.
Life has seasons. They’re nice. About the time one is
finished, I am ready for the next. Spring is always welcomed
after the long, hard winter. We look anxiously for Autumn
following the hot Summer months. Winter has its adherents,
too; so does Summer. But the most popular time of the year,
according to my own personal survey, is Autumn.
Something I’ve noticed, though, is that life has seasons.
I’m not talking about the seasons of the year now – but
the seasons of life. Most everybody has his Spring, Summer,
Autumn, and Winter, if he lives long enough.
Spring comes first. It has a lilt to it. It is blown with
winds of youthful enthusiasm. It conjures up thoughts of
things like emergence, adventure, and conquests. The
traditional time for love’s beginnings, Spring is dominated
by the sheer desire to burst forth from the cocoon and try the
still damp wings; to soar the heights; to break forth from
someone else’s dominance and fly alone. Youth and Spring,
they soar together on gossamer wings.
Summer comes and there’s more of a feeling of belonging, a
sense of having a place in life. It’s a time for work, hard
work. A man is to earn his bread by the sweat of his face and
that calls for Summer. Life has responsibility now, pressing
down like the hot sun on a tar-paper roof. It’s demanding,
bringing out the determination in us, causing us to strain
against the friction, calling on us to prove our maturity.
Autumn is the beautiful time of life. Having broken free,
having flown alone, man has arrived by the time Autumn comes.
But Autumn is, for some, life’s trouble time. It’s a time
when doubts arise, when the colors of the trees and the bite
in the wind portends the coming of Winter. To reassure that
they have not faded, some leave the security of love and home
and make foolish grabs at youth again. They color their hair,
robbing Fall of its rightful myriad of colors. Instead of
settling in and being part of the view, they try to make
themselves over again and in doing so succeed only in making
fools of themselves. When they should be making preparations
for Winter, they, like foolish grasshoppers, flitter away the
days of Autumn in a stupid, ill-fated effort to retard the
cold by returning to Spring. Autumn is beautiful, but ever so
dangerous.
Winter may be the best time of all. Winter is hard, but what
it does is make us want to go home. Home is Winter’s harbor.
There’s warmth at home. A fireplace to light the face of
your mate, gently smooth the wrinkles, give a warm tint to the
graying hair. Yes, I know that Winter’s the time when the
grim reaper comes more frequently, robbing us of our lives.
But let him come. He falls into my hands when he does, for I
am a Christian and he becomes my means of transferal to that
better place, my eternal home. Winter is for those who love
home.
Enjoy every season, my friend; life is for living. But live
for God. Make him the heart of every season, and you’ll live
a happy life. “Fight the good fight of faith; lay hold on
eternal life...”
Dee Bowman
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Copyright (C)
2009
Southside Church of Christ
All rights reserved.
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