A new appreciation for my soggy pants.

I can never decide on a favorite season.  In the midst of whatever season we are currently in, I always decide it is my favorite season.  I love fall because the leaves turn hot, deep, luminous colors.  I love winter because of the way the snow decorates the barren branches.  I love spring because there is a sense of hope in the green buds adorning the previously barren branches.  I love summer because the trees are at their fullest and greenest. 

There are also parts of the seasons I do not love.  I don’t love the leaves once they are off the branches, soggy, and in need of being raked up.  I don’t love the icy roads that can potentially result in the wrecking of my car.  I don’t love the rain… that lasts for 3 months straight for those of us living in the northwestern region of the country. 

Every season comes with its own set of blessings and “not-so-blessings.” 

Life comes in seasons just like the world around us does.  We have seasons of winter- death, depression, fear, and loneliness.  We have seasons of spring- new life, growth, pruning, and expectations.  We have seasons of summer- fullness, blooming, joy, calmness, and vibrancy.  We have seasons of autumn- change, harvest, prosperity, and crunchiness (well not really, but who doesn’t go out of their way to step on a crunchy leaf?).

Just like Solomon reminds us, there is a season for everything.  (Ecclesiastes 3)

As painful, long, and challenging a season may be, it is important to look for the beauty that comes in that season.  Sometimes I sit at my window during spring and focus only on the fact that is has been raining for literally 78 hours nonstop.  And how that means the bottoms of my pants are eternally wet.  And how that means I am uncomfortable in every class.  And how it makes me depressed. 

And as I sit there thinking through this list of “I hates” about spring, I notice the magnolia tree bursting with countless buds waiting to bloom. 

Maybe spring isn’t all that bad.  Maybe there is a purpose to all this rain.  Maybe if I took the time to realize how those buds came to be on that tree, I would find a new appreciation for my soggy pants. 

The same is true for my life.  The current season I am walking through is not the easiest.  I find myself laying in bed thinking about how things are not turning out how I planned.  And I begin to feel anxious, worried, angry, confused, and lost.  But what if I took the time to realize what will come from this season?

Already in the midst of this season, I have seen God working.  I have seen Him using this time to change me, grow me, and use me. 

Seasons are a part of life and necessary for growth.  A tree would never grow or even survive if it were not for the seasons.  In the same way, we cannot grow without being put through seasons.  As new seasons come, with their blessings and pain, try to see the good.  Nothing happens outside of God’s will and we can rest assured that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). 

When you walk into my room

When you walk into my dorm room, you will see bookshelves filled with textbooks entitled “Elementary and Middle School Mathematics,” “Teaching Exceptional and Diverse Children,” “The Craft of Christian Teaching,” “Tools for Teaching,” and other such “teachery” titles.  You will also see several children’s books scattered around the room.  Chances are you will probably see my “Corban Education Work Sample Guidebook” open on my desk.  You will find a drawer filled with Crayola products.  And if you open up my wardrobe, you will find a bucket of colorful “centimeter cubes,” used for teaching math. 

When you walk into my room, it should take a mere few seconds to determine what my major is: elementary education.  I would assume that upon walking into any other education major’s room, you would find similar items leading you to the same quick conclusion about their major of choice.  If I were to walk into a health science major’s room, I would probably find books about anatomy, physics, and chemistry.  They might have lab goggles hanging on the wall.  And they probably have an intimidating calculator sitting on their desk alongside intimidating looking equations. 

I would hope that if someone walks into my life, they would quickly see where my faith is.  Is the way I live, the things I say, and the way I build relationships indicative of the main purpose of my life?  In other words, would someone who does not know me be able to see I have dedicated my life to Christ by simply observing the way I live?

“By their fruits you will recognize them.  Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles?”  (Matthew 7:16)

The fruits in our life declare that which is most important to us.  Do your fruits point to God, or do they point to something else?  Like the items in my room point directly to my major, I hope my life points directly to my Creator.