Surviving the Seasons of Life

Many of us make the assumption that the seasons of our lives pass us by, never to return. However, just as we experience the four seasons of weather, year in and year out, so, too, do we go through the seasons of our lives repeatedly. These seasons may have some slight variation due to our current circumstances and external forces, but there are distinct characteristics and expectations that mark them. Please allow me to explain.

It's easy to think about our youth and adolescence as the green springtime when we are impressionable, impassioned, and invulnerable. We are new to the world, and it holds all the potential of an open field, newly turned and just waiting to be seeded. Our vigor and stamina and determination outweigh our wisdom and maturity, but our resilience allows us to bounce back from life's stretching like Silly Putty.

My grandmother used to say, "Youth is wasted on those too young to enjoy it." And I think this is often the case––that without experience and a basis of comparison, it's challenging to recognize the gifts that come during this season of new life. But it's not only in youth that we can experience a springtime fresh with new possibilities and budding life. There are many seasons of new beginnings that each of us undergoes as we mature and develop. You can be an old man chronologically but just now be discovering new aspects of yourself, new areas of growth, and the beginning of new relationships. Or you can be in midlife and just now embarking on the beginning of a new career, a new journey into fatherhood, or a new passion for a hobby or sport previously undiscovered. You may have only recently placed your faith in God and experienced a spiritual birth. Spring is not just a season for the young but a season for all of us who seek to continue growing by planting seeds in new ventures.

Typically, we think of our life's summer as a time of watching the temperature go up as life blooms around us. In summer, we have begun to establish ourselves, to seek and find a mate, to make decisions concerning parenthood and our career path. We learn to take care of ourselves and grow in wisdom, watching roots take hold and new buds flourishing into green maturity. And this summer season recurs in our lives in ongoing ways as well. We don't have to be in our twenties or thirties to watch with great pride as some of our investments grow into strong and healthy products of our time, energy, and resources. Whether it's our children, our home, our ministry, or our career, we begin to see and taste some of the fruit of our life's journey.

Summer is also a season of hard work. I can recall long, sweltering days under the West Virginia sun as I'd help neighbors weed their gardens when I was a boy. I'd roll up my sleeves or abandon my shirt altogether, as sweat beaded and trickled down my neck and back. Even though my arms would be sore and my back would hurt from bending, hoeing, and pulling weeds, I took immense pleasure in the satisfaction of my labor, relishing the feel of dirt on my hands and the awareness that my efforts would have a direct effect on the quality of the corn, beans, and squash later harvested from Mrs. Johnson's garden.
Similarly, many of us find ourselves in seasons of hard work and demanding schedules, time often spent away from our families and friends. I believe the key to a profitable and gratifying summer is keeping in mind the relationship between your labor and your vision of the harvest. But one must also maintain a satisfactory balance between work and play. The summer of life is a time when a man is in the heat of it, in the heat of life's test, trying to stand up to its demands, live up to his vows to God, his wife, himself, and so on. These times pass quickly, almost in a blur. It is so easy to become so preoccupied with the season that one forgets to enjoy the budding fruit and some of the special moments with children.
In the fall seasons of our lives, we experience the outcomes and consequences of many of our fruitful, and sometimes fruitless, actions. And these realizations don't necessarily occur in the autumn years of our lives. No, instead we taste the fruits of our harvest each time we recognize and accept responsibility for using our talents wisely, along with each time we taste bitter fruit and learn from our mistakes. Don't be afraid to fail, my brother, if your labor involves a worthy endeavor and honest labor. Not all seeds produce the harvest we desire or grow crops that look like the picture in the seed catalogue. Learn from your mistakes and carry this harvest with you into a new venture, the next new spring of your life. It is here that we have to accept that something might not have been meant for us to do in the first place. Some crops may have been lost. It is important that we, as men, accept the fact that none of us can do everything correctly. Still, we have to appreciate success, learn from the failures, and garner the strength we received from both to prepare for winter and to impart the lessons to our sons.

David learned later in life that he could not continue to kill giants like he did in his youth. Doing what he used to do almost killed him, first at the hand of Saul and then with various other tribes. Even his own son Absalom tried to destroy him. He had to realize that his strength was now in other areas. The Bible said that his sons and soldiers killed the new giants and David's wisdom was more important than his physical strength (2 Samuel 21:16–22).
In his poetry, David repeatedly shares this valuable lesson he's learned––to rely on God's strength more than his own: "O Lord, the king rejoices in your strength. How great is his joy in the victories you give!" (Psalm 21:1. As he embraces the autumn years, David accepts his new role and rests in his kingly graces.

And finally there's winter, a season of hibernation and rest, a time for burrowing underground and waiting. As related to our life's span, winter is usually depicted as old age, as a time of bitter cold and decline into our final days. But I believe winter gets a short shrift as far as seasons go. The winter seasons throughout our lives are those times when we need to rest, to regroup, to recharge our batteries and wait before starting new ventures or harvesting old crops. This can be the most difficult season to embrace for many men, perhaps because it feels like we're being passive and dormant, like a bear retreating to his cave for his hibernated state of suspended rest. But this is also one of the most necessary seasons to accept and embrace, for it offers one of the largest returns.

And finally there's winter, a season of hibernation and rest, a time for burrowing underground and waiting. As related to our life's span, winter is usually depicted as old age, as a time of bitter cold and decline into our final days. But I believe winter gets a short shrift as far as seasons go. The winter seasons throughout our lives are those times when we need to rest, to regroup, to recharge our batteries and wait before starting new ventures or harvesting old crops. This can be the most difficult season to embrace for many men, perhaps because it feels like we're being passive and dormant, like a bear retreating to his cave for his hibernated state of suspended rest. But this is also one of the most necessary seasons to accept and embrace, for it offers one of the largest returns.

I have noticed that as men get older they get more relational. Some men become more sensitive and affectionate; others tend to want their grandchildren around them. I do not want to suggest that they become less masculine. This is certainly not the case. Men may seem more emotional, but there are good reasons for that. They are less busy, having some accomplishments under their belts. They may have faced the loss of their parents, which is a tremendous wake–up call regarding their own mortality. Real values become more important to them. Businessmen start thinking about leaving a legacy. Workaholics become family oriented; they try to regain some of the special times that life and busyness have stolen from them. They become more emotionally ex–ressive and physically demonstrative. Often this new behavior throws family members for a loop. They're not accustomed to this attention. Some families, wives, and others have become disinterested, tired of waiting, and by the time Daddy comes home to roost, they're no long waiting for him anymore.

He has unknowingly conditioned them not to give him in one stage of his life the affection that he now needs desperately. He was too busy when he was young for something that he cannot seem to live without now. It is challenging for the family around him because they are not used to the desire he now has for family outings, games and activities, romance, and walks in the park holding hands. But allow me to explain:
Dad has become terribly aware that something is missing, something that his job has never given him. He may have damaged some relationships that he is now hungry for. Men, please avoid damaging people with thoughtlessness or by scoffing at their tenderness and sensitivity––you will later need them. Keep the family and friend door open in the summer and fall so that when winter arrives you can enjoy your family and embrace your wife without them having become frozen from the cold aloofness to which they had become accustomed from you.

To the women reading this and saying Amen!, this may confirm your suspicions about where he is right now. But the question I need you to address is, Do you have the elasticity to readjust to this newer guy who is what you wanted at first and have become accustomed to living without? If you can switch to the sound of the new music, you could waltz your way into the bliss of old age connected to a soul mate for a lifetime.

Winter doesn't have to represent age. It can represent a time of resting, so that when you recoup, you are refueled and ready to start again Without rest and renewal, there is no new life in the spring. If a field is not allowed to lie fallow after producing successful harvests, then it will not have the nutrients and replenished deposits of minerals to feed new seeds to be planted. You don't have to be old to appreciate your body's limitations. Adjusting to new "norms" is simply common sense. You can do most of what you always did, but with a little more planning and a little more rest, you can stay in the game all of your life. I've mentioned before how important it is to take good care of yourself, but I would go so far as to insist that you allow yourselves seasons of rest, periods of time when you take a sabbatical, lay low and enjoy what you have before you start new ventures and continue your journey. We will explore this in more detail momentarily.

Even when winter marks the final season of a man's life as he approaches death, there is still ongoing life––in his children and his legacy to them. At this time, a man shifts his focus from his own rewards to what he can bestow upon those who are heir to his throne. He now wants his sons and children to carry on his lineage, to take comfort in knowing his seed lives on beneath the snowy ground of his own imminent demise.

All good things must come to an end. So it is with life itself. It is the brevity that enhances the days we do have. It makes you grateful and careful, conscious and respectful. Every day is to be enjoyed, and when there are no more days, there is always eternity, for which there is no season and no end. In other words, life is a commercial that will soon be over, but stay tuned. The best is yet to come. Heaven is the main event, and I have read that it is a wonderful way for the story to complete itself.