We live on a property with three acacia trees. The one nearest our cottage is a paper bark. At about this time every year, they all produce masses of pale yellow pompom flowers. Quite soon the bees will come in squadrons to take advantage of all the pollen. Their drone will rival the twitter of birds. I call this bee day.
In another season, the trees produce seeds in untidy pods. In winter the paper bark doesn’t lose all its leaves but it loses most, allowing the sunshine to percolate into our garden.
There are different seasons and some seasons are messy. At the moment we have pompoms scattered on the grass like confetti, on the tiled floor under the gazebo and bunching in the curve of the canvas on the top.
The pod-dropping season is just as messy, as is the leaf-thinning one.
Ecclesiastes says, “There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, and time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.” (Ecc 3:1-8 NIV)
Our seasons are not annual, like the paper bark’s. They are linear. One season ends and another begins. Let’s face it, some seasons are messy. Parents of babies and toddlers suffer from interrupted sleep, messy houses, unpunctuality and constant exhaustion. Yet, looking back on those days, weren’t they special? I cried when each of my children went to school for the first time.. It marked the end of that messy season in my life. Now, as a grandmother, life is much more ordered.
The thing about messy seasons is they don’t last forever. In the scale of life they are short-lived. By Christmas there will no longer be pompoms on my grass. Yet somehow, the messy seasons are memorable. Let’s not wish them away too soon.
Father God, Creator of all things, thank you for the different seasons of my life. Thank You for the messy times that seem to have flown by. Please help me embrace each new season with the wonder of a child going to a new holiday house. May I explore it and thank You for its unique gifts. Amen.