Autumn’s Shadow
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace. {…} He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, He has put eternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.”
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, 11
I love the changing seasons we have here on the East Coast, especially the transition from summer to autumn. There is nothing like the sweet, pungent smell of the crisp, cool air, the beauty of watching the leaves turn, the excitement of back-to-school shopping, and the anticipation of the holidays right around the corner. I love it all!
But the problem is that for me, autumn also has a shadow, which I can’t ignore. That shadow is winter. I know that once the leaves turn their glorious shades, they die and fall, and the trees are grim and bare. The refreshing, happy air of autumn will turn into the biting cold of winter within weeks. The excitement of school will turn into the daily grind of getting up early and plodding along in the mundane. The holidays will come and go, leaving a long, cold, dreary few months of waiting for spring.
There was a time when I felt like my life mirrored the dreariness of winter. My husband and I had already walked through a few years of infertility and the heartache that entails. But during the spring and summer of 2011, we began to plan and anticipate adopting our first-born baby. Over the warm, sunny months, we enjoyed beach vacations and time with friends. I soaked in the warmth of the sun with full enthusiasm.
Then, at the end of summer, we found out we were pregnant, shooting us to a high we had never experienced or expected before. It felt like autumn! There was a sense of new beginnings, joy, and anticipation of the future. But slowly, I felt a shadow creeping closer as areas of our life began to unravel. We discovered that my husband didn’t get an anticipated work promotion. Our church entered a season of conflict and separation. We learned that our adoption agency didn’t accept home studies if we were already pregnant, so we were disappointed we wouldn’t be able to adopt. Then, after nine precious weeks with our sweet baby, a sonogram showed his or her heart had stopped beating. I felt trapped in a dreary “winter of the soul,” as a dear friend described it.
It was tempting to pull into myself, dig in and want to hibernate until spring. I’ve always disliked wintertime. But this season highlighted so many other things I hated: death, gray, being cold, being sad, mourning, crying, feeling stuck with nothing good in sight. I wanted to feel alive and fresh and enjoy life. I wanted to anticipate the future, not feel cemented in the present. It was easy to think negatively and live with my head down.
Did I believe that God was good even when my circumstances said otherwise? Could I really trust that He does what is best for me? Did I believe that this season was not an undetermined pointless series of days that would never end? Did I believe that God was in control and ordained my life to bring Him the utmost glory and me the utmost good? Did I believe that His steadfast love would meet me right where I was? Were my prayers really powerful and effective? Was my foundation really firm? Did I trust that He kept count of my tossings and that the tears were not wasted?
Yes. Yes, I did.
I learned some hard truths during that winter of my soul. Yet because of Christ’s sacrificial death on the cross and His victorious resurrection, I could be certain that all these questions were a “yes” in Christ. Did it feel like winter? Yes. But I learned that in reality, it wasn’t always going to be winter. I didn’t have to give in to the temptation to hide away or the fears and emotions of my heart that wanted to rule over me. I had hope. I had Christ. And He told me that He makes everything beautiful in its time. I could trust Him.
In his devotional Morning and Evening, Charles Spurgeon beautifully reminds us, “Why yield to gloomy anticipations? Who told you that the night would never end in day? […] Who told you that the winter of your discontent would proceed from frost to frost, from snow and ice and hail to deeper snow and yet more heavy tempest of despair? Don’t you know that day follows night, that flood comes after ebb, that spring and summer succeed winter? Be full of hope! Hope forever! For God does not fail you” (Alistair Begg edition, July 21 entry).
Despite my fears and bleak circumstances, the Lord ever so patiently reminded me of the promise of eternity in my heart. An eternity that has no winter. An eternity that will mean an endless type of autumn—new, fresh, full of life, with no shadow of cold or death.
I learned that regardless of my season here in this life, I could anticipate the day when all my deepest hopes and desires would be truly fulfilled in Him in eternity.
Today, I sit in front of a roaring fire, looking outside my window and seeing the last of autumn’s vibrant display in the woods surrounding our farm. It’s been years since that dark season of my life. My four beautiful children run around outside, chasing our chickens in the crisp fall air. I hear them laugh, and I rejoice in the Lord turning my mourning into dancing. God melted away my winter in His perfect way and timing. I continue to learn to enjoy autumn’s joy and beauty and trust God to lead me through the cold dark seasons that will come my way in the future. He has been faithful, and He always will be, come what may.
- Lauren
Hope Mom to Baby Rohwer
Lauren is an undeserving and grateful follower of Jesus, wife to her beloved Paul, adoptive and biological mom of four (+ 1 glory baby), suburban housewife turned farmer’s wife and COO of her family’s farming enterprise. She’s currently homeschooling three of her children and in her free time loves to read, write, and hang with her girlfriends.
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