Providence and Seasons

In life, things do not always occur as planned. If you have been alive past the stage of an obstinate toddler, you know this. Yet, so many of us receive this lesson with agonized shock each time it is imparted to us. We question, we shake our fists to the sky, we weep into the chasm of chaos; as Jobs in all of humanity, undone, we cry out, "What is my strength, that I should hope? and what is mine end, that I should prolong my life?" (Job 6:11). Somewhere up in heaven, God is just shaking his head, maybe facepalming a little. For though the tested may, like Job, be among the faithful of the earth, each of us settles during these tribulations into a narrowed scope of "Nothing in life is worth this misery". The cause of it, perhaps, is a fundamental misunderstanding of seasons.

When I was two, I didn't understand why there just couldn't be snow in summer, or why God didn't slap bullies across the face with their own personal hurricane. My thought was that if I brought an umbrella, it had to rain. Many of us go through life like that. But I think now, that God gives us things like day and night and these four seasons to teach us profound and essential spiritual lessons about His ways. Life, inevitably, is an obstacle course of ups and downs that, like the hands of a potter on wet clay, mold us into what we are meant to be. When things are going smoothly, we see a perfect plan in everything-- each harrowing disaster in the past becomes a "bump in the road", and the future could not be anything but lovely and gentle. But the bumps do return, and as you go over them, they jostle, your clay chips, and you start to believe that any possible good in the future isn't worth this present torment. Is it?

I used to (and maybe still do) hate it when people said, "Oh, you need shadows to see the sunshine" or something else to the effect of "no appreciating the good without the bad". Believe me, I know chocolate is fantastic even without tasting broccoli first. That being said, it is true to some effect-- we learn to appreciate more what we are in danger of losing, and in comparison to the darkness, light seems to grow brighter still. Yet I think it's more accurate to say this; sometimes you have to endure the thunderstorm to have the joy of jumping in puddles later. And when you're terribly frightened by the booms and cackles, you learn that the house is safe and that your Daddy will always hold you close as you tremble. So it is that a three-year-old may understand more of God than the adult who gnashes their teeth and denounces faith in every poor circumstance.

As someone who struggles with bipolar disorder, I am unfortunately/fortunately intimately acquainted with this premise.

I won't play it like I've learned my lesson well. Without fail, each time I'm depressed I begin to draw a fantastic parallel to the book of Job. Cursing the day I was born, believing God must hate me for being terrible, the whole 'why is this happening', I'm unworthy of all goodness, general lack of perspective, etc. This presents a very real question on the case of optimism: Is it wrong to feel down? Does God condemn the times we stumble into the tarry pits of "woe is me"?

Let's take a look at the seasons.

Each is beautifully unique. Each is necessary for life. Spring heralds, "out with the lion, in with the lamb", promising gentleness, new life, and clearing of the storms. Summer brings bounty, and what feels like endless sun. In the fall, the produce is swept up, clouds begin to loom in the sky, and leaves scatter from the trees. Winter is barren and dormant, seeming impregnable and as endless as the summer before (though, you know, sledding always livens the days). And yes, too, we see the days pull longer and shorter. Leave it to God to turn a simple axial tilt of a planet into an allegory for all of life.

Galatians 6:9 says, "And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up."

1 Peter 1:6 says, "In this [salvation] you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials,"

And,

Psalm 40:1-3 says, "I waited patiently for the Lord, He turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; He set my feet on rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord."

As Job is reprimanded by God for his blindness in the current situation, it's easy to forget in reading that the very first verse of this book states that Job is among the righteous. He is "blameless and upright; he feared God and shunned evil." Two important things may be gleaned from this: The righteous are not exempt from suffering, and, it is possible for the righteous to be soul-shatteringly depressed.

The shortest verse in the Bible speaks volumes: Jesus wept. (John 11:35)

The Bible also says, in 2 Corinthians 1:3-4, "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God." Which is a mouthful, but a very wise mouthful.

We have a wholly loving and gracious God, our Providence, who blesses us with the trials of seasons so that we may reap their joy, grow strong in Him, and mature our hearts to gratitude in all things good and righteous. The moments of anguish here on Earth are not ignored by Him, nor are we condemned for the ill of depression. He does not waste our suffering. God tells us not to lack faith in these times, not to assume we know better (Job 33:4, 38:4); but He also tells us to heap our burdens upon him:

"I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." ~John 16:33

The earth itself, in every trail, is but training to trust in Him, for He upholds us with His mighty hand (Isaiah 41:10) and carries our every anxious burden (1 Peter 5:7). We are children in thunderstorms, and in our desperation, we cling to our Father or the protection, salvation, and love He always, unconditionally, irrevocably offers.

Sow righteousness for yourselves,

    reap the fruit of unfailing love,

and break up your unplowed ground ;

    for it is time to seek the Lord, until he comes

    and showers his righteousness on you.

~Hosea 10:12