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Seasons

Seasons.  There is something beautiful and mysterious about seasons.  The seasons of life.  Seasons of the soul.  Each carries beauty and hardship.  Just enough to make us ready to embrace the next season when it comes.

I love fall.  I always have.  The breathtaking vibrancy of red, yellow, and orange wrapping itself around the leaves before they drift to the ground.  My Grace baby's birthday is always the eve of fall.  This year she turned two, and it is as if someone told her what that means.  When I came to get her from her crib on the morning of September 21st, I exclaimed, "Happy birthday, Maddie Gracie!"  "No hatty birday!" she replied with a scowl.  "But you will get presents," I said with excitement.  "No pesents!" Maddie grumped.  Alena asked if she could have some of the cake, and Maddie told her "NO take (aka "cake").  I couldn't help but laugh at the seriousness of that furrowed brow and scowling pout.  Who told this kid to wake up saying "no" to everything on her second birthday?!  Somehow she just seemed to know the season she is in.

I never know what a day will bring.  When Abby flushed an applesauce squeezie down the toilet recently, she told my mom with certainty "Now I can call the plumber!"  When my mom asked how she knew we should call the plumber she said, "Because that's what Curious George did when he flushed something down the toilet."  Seriously!?  You owe me one, George!

And when my keys went missing,  I just knew my kids had hidden them.  I drove home from work on a Wednesday, and I discovered they were gone when I was running late to my parent conference with the twins' preschool teacher the next morning.  About the time I needed to leave I remembered that Ella Bree had pooped in her car seat, and I had washed it but not rethreaded the straps.  I wrestled with the car seat and then realized my keys weren't on the special hook I had put up so I would keep myself from losing them.  I finally gave up and grabbed a spare.  When I rushed into the preschool classroom with my apologies for being late, the teacher said, "Oh, sweetie, your not late.  You're early...  a week early!"  I think I changed color with those fall leaves right then and there.  And then it dawned on me that if it wasn't conference day, that meant the twins had school.  They were home with grandma in their pjs, and I was here at school without them!!

Do you ever feel like you just can't get ahead of the tidal wave? Like there are simply too many balls to juggle, and you just can't seem to do anything well.  Guilt sets up shop in your head and thoughts of failure keep pounding on your door.  I was driving to work one morning, dodging traffic and the loud voice of condemnation, when I asked God what He is trying to say to me in this season.  What came to mind were the quiet words of my girls' teacher when I told her how  I felt I hadn't done a good job teaching them their letters at home.  "Just teach them Jesus," she said, "and the letters will come."

Just teach them Jesus.  Just Jesus.  Jesus.  And the rest will come.  My eyes filled with tears.  Sometimes the truth is simple.  The burden easy and the yoke light.  If we will take it.  Just Jesus.  If we will shift our focus, then life will come back into focus.  And we can breathe a sigh of relief.  Because he doesn't expect us to be perfect after all.  Just focused on perfection.  Jesus.  Just Jesus.

Soooo in case you are wondering... after a week of looking and offering chocolate to any child who could produce them, I did find my keys.  In a cereal box.  On a shelf that was way too high for little people to have been the culprits.  Oh my!  We might as well laugh!  And embrace the season!

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