Seasons
There’s a crisp coolness in the air right now as I rise up to do chores in the morning and tuck all my beloved animals in at night. Fall is here and I revel in the changes all around me. But there’s also extra work for me right now as I button up the farm for the frigid, icy dangerous Winter ahead, an innate internal hurry to get things done before the weather changes.
Seasons come; seasons go. Change is as imminent as the change of seasons.
My sheep graze hungrily in Summer’s still lush, grassy pastures, fortifying themselves for what’s ahead. Soon the snow will cover that grass and they will try with their tiny hooves to remove the snow to get to the grass beneath, brown from Winter’s chill.
My sheep feel the changes too, they no longer linger late in the pastures as they do in the summer, retreating back to their barn to settle in for the night. They rise later in the mornings now, contentedly staying in the warmth of their soft bedding — their eyes closed. I sit with them for a while, taking in the simple splendor of these still, precious moments.
Seasons come; seasons go. Each season has its beauty and dangers and joy.
Soon they will not be going to the pastures to eat. I will struggle to bring them their rich hay and they’ll stand and baa impatiently as they wait, their upturned faces smiling excited approval at me as the flakes of hay hit the ground at their feet.
There’s a rhythm to farm life that is not present elsewhere — an overall sameness that is slightly different because now I am a year older and so are my sheep. As I look over my flock, I see the gray faces I’ve grown used to and loved. For some it will sadly be their last Winter and there will be a hole in my flock no one else can fill — a small hole in my heart that will become a scar as a reminder they were there.
Seasons come; seasons go and each time they do there’s an expectation for what lies ahead.
Will the Winter be too harsh to bear? Do I have the stamina still to be a Shepherdess who can meet my sheep’s even most basic of needs? These questions are always just underneath the surface, nagging at the heels of my heart and soul, sometimes keeping me from enjoying and being present in my present season.
My Good Shepherd knows this. He knows I have doubts — sometimes even fears for what inevitably lies ahead. He is the God of everyday sameness and the Good Shepherd of changes. Because He is my Shepherd, I have all that I need in the midst of every season. It has always been so, in my entire life, so.
I look up now from my mounting never ending internal to do list ever playing and being added to in my mind. My eyes are drawn to the long lane we live up, so beautiful in all seasons but treacherous in winter, and I see for the first time (really see) my grand old lady — my ancient, strong, beloved maple tree — beckoning me to notice the beginning of her Autum splendor. And I feel God’s words, “Stay, look, enjoy this moment. It will soon be gone.” And I do.
Seasons come; seasons go but my Good Shepherd never changes.
He is there for all of my seasons — giving me exactly what I need for each moment, exactly at the time I need it. If only I open my hands and heart to receive it. If only.
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens. Ecclesiastes 3:1
Jackie Deems copyright 2022