Until Its Season

​There's a song in every silence, seeking word and melody; 
There's a dawn in every darkness, bringing hope to you and me. 
From the past will come the future; what it holds, a mystery, 
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.
~ Hymn of Promise Natalie Sleeth

                                                                                                                                                      Song  

     Unrevealed until its season.

     Lent is our shared time of moving from season to season. From one season to the next. Winter to Spring. Together we move from watching sunsets through the tree’s bare branches to seeing sunrises with branches now bursting with buds. We see colors come awake and come alive. Birds lift up their songs. All along the way we are reminded that life never stands still, but is always shifting, always transforming.  

     We mark our years by the number of candles on the cake. Most days we mark our time hour by hour, minute to minute. Still, somehow we know that there is something greater always holding us. The notions of our seasons feel much more authentic to the living of our lives than measuring only by calendars or wrist watches. Seasons aren’t exact. Seasons are experienced more by the color of the leaves turning or the smell and feel of the dirt as we are planting seeds. We live out seasons of Innocence and seasons of Despair. There are seasons of Wing-Spreading and seasons of Face Plantings. There are seasons of what was that? and seasons of what’s next? When we speak of those kinds of places, of our life-seasons, then we are talking about mystery and mercy and  grace. Then we are bearing witness to the most vulnerable and valuable moments of our lives.
 
     “A song in every silence…A dawn in every darkness…” Natalie’s song invites us into life’s shifting mysteries. Time and time again we know that being alive is recognizing that what was is no longer what is. It is seeing both the realities and the possibilities of what is now will surely change.
 
    Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.
    
    These words bring comfort. They acknowledge pain and hope side-by-side. They acknowledge the seasons of our lives. Sometimes lasting three months. Sometimes three years. Sometimes three breaths. A time. Measured. Lived. Past. Then we move on to the next season, the new season. All the while God is with us. Until what is next is revealed.

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