My Seasonal Wife, My Seasonal Life

My Seasonal Wife, My Seasonal Life

Sep 23, 2013

My seasonal wife, My seasonal life

by Kevin Butler


After wilting through a rare, oppressive late-summer heat wave and drought here in the upper Midwest, others further west have been slogging through torrential and deadly rain. What season is this??

It’s pretty obvious what season we’re in at our house. Like clockwork, my wife heads to the basement and lugs a large box up the stairs. She then dutifully and artfully positions several displays of colorful and seasonal decorations.

At dinnertime I’m able to look up at the wooden shelf on the wall and quickly discern whatever season it is. (The way constant deadlines come and go so rapidly, believe me, sometimes I forget…)

While talking with Janet, I can see either a patriotic collection of red-white-and blue (must be summer), or pansies and miniature garden paraphernalia (spring). Our Wisconsin winters seem to drag on, so to sprinkle in some variety she begins with snowflakes, Christmas angels and manger scenes, then morphs into snowmen, and then the pine tree and pinecone figurines make their appearance.

But right now—and just in time for the temps to cool down—the shelves are awash with my favorites: orange pumpkins, red apples, yellow sunflowers and various leaves. Autumn!

I have a church friend who absolutely hates this season. When I point out the stunning color and healthy apples and pumpkin spice-flavored everything, she just cringes. “I still hate it,” she insists.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because I know what’s coming!”

Since we both live in Wisconsin I understand exactly what she means. All too soon, the snowflakes will become snowmen, and well, you get the frigid picture.


p27 Seasons change CLR


In real life and real time, it’s safe to say that my spouse and I are a bit past our prime when it comes to sports and endurance. “Summer” might be waning, and our hair—along with the tree outside—is changing color.

We know what’s coming next.

We know that there may come a time when we’ll need to drastically pare down those decorations to a bare minimum. We’ll have only “so much room” in a sparse assisted living apartment.

The seasons and our surroundings and decorations may change, but we can take courage in one constant: “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8:38-39).

Along with that love comes the promise to His children that we have a place prepared for us in heaven.

Any sense of dread about this ever-changing life can be erased by the certainty of that new place—fashioned by an unchanging God—awaiting us when these highly variable seasons come to an end.

Is it too much to ask for just a splash of fall color in my heavenly mansion?

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