Seasons are important for me as markers for my memory. But too, as I age, I realize how important they are in discovering the beauty in the lives we lead.
As I look back through my life, there are definite specific seasons. There was my childhood with my brother. Then the time around his death and the first few years afterward. There is high school, my time in Sweden, and early marriage. There's the time leading up to being parents as well as most of my daughter's childhood. And then there have been shorter seasons scattered throughout. To some it will be no surprise that each of these seasons has a soundtrack unique to itself. Some highlights are "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" by B. J. Thomas, "Daniel" by Elton John, "(Jag ska) Gå Hel Ur Det Här" by Peter LeMarc, "No Doubt" by Petra, "When She Sees Me" by The Choir, and "I Can Only Imagine" by Mercy Me. These songs punctuate my memories and help keep the feelings clear, much like when you smear paint into letters carved into wood. But seasons are something we should embrace, not just after the fact with hindsight. In 1965, the Byrds released the best known version of a Pete Seeger song, "Turn! Turn! Turn!" Most of the lyrics are take directly from the Bible. We are told that that there are times appointed to good and happy and others to sadness and loss. We humans try to mitigate the sadness and loss. Honestly, we try to avoid it altogether. And yet, there are times of loss. There are times of pain and grief. Now, I'm not saying that we should become complacent or lazy or sloppy. "Oh, this is my time for loss, so...." No, but I am saying that we go through seasons that are inherently painful. Among other things, there are seasons to die, weep, mourn, break down, hate, and lose. W.e will go through seasons. We WILL go through seasons. I mentioned the soundtracks to my own seasons. Well, when I hear the song "Daniel" I immediately think of my brother. And I miss him. "Daniel is traveling tonight on a plane I can see the red tail lights heading for Spain Oh and I can see Daniel waving goodbye God it looks like Daniel, must be the clouds in my eyes" I have no idea why THAT song, neither did my mom and she had the same connection to it. It would be easy to end there, "And I miss him." But really, that is misleading. Sure, I miss David. I do. And I wonder what his life would have been like. Would we be as tight now as we were as kids? Would I keep an eye on him and make sure he was OK? Would he even be able to live alone or have a family? But the memories are amazing. And they aren't like most stories of having siblings. We didn't fight like siblings are expected to. We had ONE fight. I can remember it because it was such an anomaly. Those are beautiful memories. My parents were together then, and they were fantastic at raising a disabled child and a "normal" child in the 1970s. We lived the magic of being in Southern California at that time with Disneyland and the beaches. It was that season that taught me to live among money and not need it. We would hang out in all the wealthy shopping districts and enjoy walking and watching while being less than wealthy. And living with David formed so much of who I am, Even his death set off a chain of events that brought pain and grief and death. But those same events contributed to shaping my parents and consequently myself. I can find a pretty direct line from the work I do in the counseling room through my parents back to my brother's death. So, even these painful seasons bring wonderful benefit if we will only let them. "We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose." - Romans 8:28 (NASB) So, without getting into a whole sermon here, all things can be good for us in some way. As I reflect there are so many other seasons that come to mind. Right now, three different Christmases stand out. There was the year we were missionaries at Teen Challenge of Kansas. It was a dark time for us. We were so sad and hurting. But, both my wife and I have fond memories of me laying on the couch and her sitting at the piano in our little trailer that also served as the mess hall for the center. That trailer was on top of a small hill and was exposed to the full cruelty of the Kansas winter winds. It would rock back and forth as she sat there and played "Traditions of Christmas." What a beautiful memory that also served as an anchor for a thread that has run through all the years since. Another Christmas was in Belvedere, IL. The only thing that matched the poverty and pain (physical and emotional) of the time was the love of people and God. And it was amazing! This year will likely stick in my memories too. This has been an amazing emotional time for me. In November I ventured out on my trike for a long needed ride. The plan was to meet up with some friends for hot dogs some 300 miles from the house in Hollywood, CA. I was less than 20 miles away, playing in a favorite area when under the trike arose such a clatter. I stopped immediately to see what was the matter. And there I sat until the tow truck arrived five hours later. But family rose to the occasion. Then friends I hadn't met yet jumped in. Next came my daughter to help with the rescue. Now all of a sudden, three weeks after it broke, I was back on the trike. Having not built a great plan for momma to be home with a sick dog, I didn't feel comfortable finishing my planned route from November. Instead, I came home in a more direct path. But, it was a wonderful day. It was quiet and peaceful and calm. But it took sacrifice from all to make it happen. I was enjoying music throughout this Christmas season in a way I haven't in a very long time. As I did, I thought often of my dad. Although I miss him too, those were wonderful beautiful thoughts and memories. I received a note and an amazing gift from a friend. The gift ble me away, but the note meant every bit as much as the gift. Then on Christmas morning my wife and daughter continued to bless my heart. my daughter continued to speak to her daddy's motorcycling heart. And my wife blessed her husband's sentimental heart. All of these Christmases wouldn't be as amazing and special as they were if they didn't come in the seasons they did. None of these Christmases would have been the blessings they were without the awareness that beauty was shining in the midst of dark seasons. Seasons matter. Life happens and it isn't always fun. But when we can see blessings, whether they be seasons of blessing or blessings in darker seasons, they will shape our lives and our hearts. They will make us people that can love fully and minister to others that need help to see their way through dark seasons. Together we can change the future by changing hearts. As David said in Psalm 23, "As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,..." I've walked through that valley, as many of us have. Many are`right now. We know the feeling. We know what it is to be overwhelmed by the pain of loss. And we can just curl up into the fetal position until we die ourselves or we can read on, "...I fear no evil; for you are with me...." Sometimes we sense God's presence with our spirit. Other times we are comforted by family and friends or even the kindness of a stranger. But we walk through the valley and we see it for what it is, part of a season. And seasons end as they are replaced by others. I'll look back on this season and remember how I got through. And I'll ride along someday with a song that triggers memories of this time and be grateful.
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AuthorRev. Matthew Hogan is a Certified Temperament Pastoral Counselor, Licensed Pastoral Counselor and is a Professional Clinical Member of the National Christian Counselors Association Archives
March 2021
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