Seasons

We’ve had a few teasing days of sunshine here in Berrien Springs. The snow melted just enough for us to spot grass and the brave little plants underneath. It felt like winter had finally loosened its grip.

And then… more snow.

The cold that seemed to be packing its bags decided to stay a little longer. It makes you wonder: Will winter ever step aside and let spring take over? Were those sunny days just a preview of something better — or a false alarm?

We know how this works. Spring follows winter. Summer comes next. Then fall. Then winter again. The cycle is predictable.

And yet, when we’re in the middle of a season, it’s amazing how quickly we start wishing for the next one.

In the heat of summer, we say, “When will those cool autumn evenings come? I can’t wait to see the trees change color.”
Or maybe it’s more desperate: “I’m so done with these bugs! Please, let the cold come and take them away!”
Then in the fall, we’re tired of raking leaves every other day and start dreaming of a quiet snowfall covering everything like a clean white blanket.

Before long, we can slip into a pattern of living in one season while constantly wishing it away — always waiting for the next thing.

Let me ask you: Is that a healthy way to live?

Don’t answer too quickly. Sit with it for a moment.

I think there are reasons we might say both yes and no.

Think about the Israelites during the Exodus. Under the leadership of Moses, they left Egypt — a place of slavery and bondage, yes, but also the only life they had known. They had some security and routine. But now, they had seen God’s power. They had witnessed miracles. They were free!

And yet… they were in the wilderness.

Day after day, walking through the desert. Not in bondage anymore, but not yet in the Promised Land. It’s not hard to imagine how discouraging that must have felt. Some even said, “Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die?” (Ex. 14:12). A few wanted to go back. Many were simply weary.

Here’s what I find beautiful: in that in-between season, God gave them manna.

Not a year’s supply.
Not a month’s supply.
Just enough for that day.

If they tried to store it, it spoiled. They had to wake up each morning and trust Him again.

What a lesson for us.

God didn’t rush them straight from Egypt to “a land flowing with milk and honey.” He sustained them daily in the wilderness. The manna kept their focus on what God was doing that day — while still trusting what He would do in the future.

Jesus echoes this in the book of Matthew: “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.”

Do we see signs of the times for us now? We know hard seasons will come. We also know they don’t last forever, and a better season is also coming. The same God who holds the future is holding today.

Look at the life of Joseph. The God who gave him dreams and a coat of many colors was the same God who was with him when his brothers sold him into slavery. The same God was with him as he worked in the house of Potiphar, in the prison, and later in the palace serving under Pharaoh.

Joseph didn’t waste his prison season waiting for the palace. He served faithfully wherever he was. He understood who he ultimately worked for. He made the best of each season without losing sight of God’s promises.

He even told his family near the end of his life, “God will surely visit you.” He trusted that the story wasn’t over — but he also lived fully in the chapter he was given.

Maybe that’s the balance.

Yes, it’s okay to long for spring when it’s cold.
Yes, it’s natural to hope for better days.

But we don’t have to put life on hold while we wait.

Winter has its beauty. So does the wilderness. So does the prison before the palace.

May we live with quiet confidence in whatever season we find ourselves. May we trust that God is not only preparing our future, but actively working in our present. And as we move forward, may we keep “waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ” — not passively, but faithfully, right here and right now.