Memories and Changing Seasons

The first crisp days of fall are upon us.  This morning, I felt chilled for the first time in a long while.  As the weather shifts from sweaty days to crisp mornings and the leaves change color, I also consider different seasons of life.

Photographs on my desk remind me of these changing seasons. 

One collage reminds me a grand road trip two summers ago to Prince Edward Island with two dear high school friends.  The memories roll over each other: line dancing with PEI locals, discovering a rope swing while driving through a small Vermont town and spontaneously jumping into the creek, meeting a Canadian who invited us to his show at a bar, embarrassing myself by ordering a “coke and rum” instead of a “rum and coke” (is that how you Americans say it? ...nope, just Christy), quoting Anne of Green Gables throughout the ten day trip, swimming off the rocky coast of Maine, wanting to become Amish after visiting Lancaster County, and so many other dear moments.

Another photograph is from my graduation at Wheaton.  My friend Ryn and I smile amidst crowds of blue graduation robes: celebrating four splendid years together, grieving the loss of life as we knew it, and unsure of what would come next.  She was headed to New Hampshire; I to HoneyRock for the summer, then St. Louis.  Little did we know that a year and a half later, we would be roommates in Wheaton and closer in friendship than we’d ever been.

One picture features my family at Ben and Trisha’s wedding last October.  Trisha had recently returned from a year in Jordan and would soon be adjusting to life in St. Louis.  Ben was excited at her return and continuing to deepen friendships and embrace life in St. Louis.  Aaron is still immersed in life at Wheaton, playing trumpet to his heart’s content (perhaps even more than that).  Caleb’s football injury has seemed to heal and now he’s back to playing a sport he loves, and he continues to develop as a leader among his high school peers.  My parents had just given their first foster baby back to his biological parents; all of us felt a void without his adoring bright blue eyes and contagious squeals of laughter.  In the photo, we’re glowing with joy, excited to welcome a new member to our family.  At one point during the wedding ceremony, I realized that I had merely been considering Ben and Trisha’s wedding as a formality for adopting Trisha into our family and not as the two of them starting marriage together.  I still like to consider her first as my sister, and second as my brother’s wife... perhaps I ought to shift my way of thinking.

The final photo on my desk is the most recent, taken last week.  This Polaroid showcases Sunday night girls’ club: I adore these squirming 3-8 year olds with their budding personalities and inquisitive natures.  The photo captures the beauty of eleven girls (five Burmese, four Burundi, and two Mexican).  I’m fairly certain that these girls teach me more than I teach them.  They remind me of the beauty of the global Church, different expressions of our life-giving Father.  As they readily give hugs, hold my hand, and sit in my lap, they teach me to welcome others with open arms.  They also remind me to question what I rarely consider (Why do we pray before we eat?  Why should we share markers?  Why should I be friends with kids that aren’t like me or don’t speak my language?  Why do people do bad things?  Why can’t I stand on the table?  Why did God create the earth?).

Different friends and family, significant moments in life, beautiful memories attached to the photographs.  Life ebbs and flows.  Through it all, I pray that slowly, surely God will continue to draw me closer and that I may further understand my joys and anxieties when placed in His reassuring hands.