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It’s Time for the Seasons to Change

June 26, 2019 3 min read

My time in Mae Sot is coming to a close, and this keeps me up at night more times than I would like to admit. I moved here for a specific project. I knew this would be for just a season, but somehow, it feels like it lasted only a few days rather than the almost year it’s been.

I keep telling myself that word over and over again—season. 

“There is a time and season for everything,” I remind my heart. 

The Father whispers back, “It’s time for the seasons to change.”

It’s the same thing He said over a year ago when He first led me to this country, and it seems fitting to hear Him say it once again. Honestly, though, some days my heart longs to keep things the way they are. This once foreign place is now familiar. This once uncomfortable town is now home, and my heart is grateful. I’ve done the hard work of cultivating community, of investing in relationships, of building trust in ministry. I’ve built relationships—beautiful relationships—with the women we work with, and it feels so deeply challenging to say goodbye. 

“Seasons, seasons, season,” my soul whispers. 

The seasons have changed here in Thailand. The scorching hot weather gave way to buckets of rain the sky couldn’t hold anymore. Rain storms rock our town day and night, and clouds block the sun we never thought would disappear. Rainy season has burst in and brought planting season along with it. The trees and plants once dying of thirst practically blind our eyes with their vibrant greens and yellows and reds. 

There is a season for everything, even for the most incredible, amazing gifts—like rainy season, like planting season, like this life and ministry in Mae Sot. These days, I’m trying to embrace these seasons, because I could have cried tears of joy when the first downpour of rainy season hit Mae Sot. Seasons need to change, even if they are painful changes—like the slow shift into hot season or the painful “goodbyes” and “see you laters.” 

These changes can be uncomfortable and difficult and leave us feeling like a foreigner in our own body. But with these changes come with the opportunity for new life, new growth, new color. As much as we don’t want to admit it, we need these changes.

For me, this change looks like moving back to the States for awhile. It looks like continuing work on the Braverly book project. It looks like discerning the Father’s plan on a few other projects. It looks like taking one step at a time, trusting the Father’s voice in the midst of the changing season.

And isn’t that all we can do—take one step after the other, trusting the One who asked us to step in the first place? He longs for our trust and faith, our hope and confidence that He is good. He longs to watch us open our clenched fists and let the seasons change, knowing that He is stepping with us in the change and transition.

So let the seasons change. Let the clouds cover the sun for a moment so rain can soak the thirsty ground. Let the trees and the flowers and the fields take their fill of water. Let them drink so that soon enough new life and growth and color will fill our world. 

These days, this is what I’m trying to do—welcome in the new and celebrate the close of something beautiful, remembering that the Father longs to do big and beautiful things in every season, in every place, in every person. So I will celebrate the days to come, even their “goodbyes” and “see you laters.” I will celebrate the changing seasons. 

May we let the seasons change, and may we find joy in their differences. May we see beauty in the close of something wonderful and anticipate the joy of the new beginning waiting for us tomorrow. 

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