Passing through seasons

Passing through Seasons

As the leaves change their colors

And the cooler air blows in

I look forward to the change

ushered in by a new season. 

Yet at the same time I grieve

for the summer days now past

for the warmth of the sun

and the late sunlight that won't last.

I watch the flowers shrivel up

and mourn their loss in the months ahead

I breathe the crisp cool air

Thankful the sticky heat has fled. 

I long for carefree summer time

As I settle back into the workday

Just as I savor moments snuggled by a fire

Before the winter ice melts away. 

We live through the cycle of seasons

Each one carrying loss along with hope

Each season holds both a treasure

And a hardship with which we must cope

Yet each one has a purpose

A time to cherish what we see

A time to reflect on what was

And to imagine what will be.

Without the cycle of change

we fall into a monotonous rut

forgetting to cherish and savor the moments

before the curtain closes each season shut.

No season should be wasted

simply longing for comfort from before

or enduring through to the end,

always wanting something more. 

The past is the past

Those seasons are gone.

To miss the joy of today's season

Seems so utterly wrong. 

So savor winter fires

While breathing in the scent of spring

Soak up the late summer nights

And all the colors fall will bring.

Cherish your memories

Made in your seasons gone by

Embrace the purpose of the present

before another season draws nigh. 

Living in Texas for 19 years can easily make you forget God's beautiful transition between seasons. I grew up with all four very distinct seasons until my son was born, and then the warm Texas sun spread summer out longer and stole those magical moments that defined all four seasons in unique ways. Coming back to Indiana and now living and working out in nature, I'm mesmerized by the beauty that each season holds. And I'm reminded that each season holds loss, treasure, and hope. Each season starts with all things lost from the previous season, and we make a mental note to cherish all those things a little bit more next time around. Each one also holds treasure, something special that God does that's different from his activity in other seasons. And it also promises hope for life or pleasure in the upcoming season. They all remind us of the reality of life, the way it happens in seasons, each one holding purpose. Many times we spend our energy and emotion either trying too hard to hold on to a season beyond its allotted time, trying to speed up an uncomfortable season so we can leave it prematurely, or looking back at seasons gone by, thinking the present season can't possibly hold the same value. In doing so, we forget that they're just seasons, each with an intended purpose and time. 

When I look back at pictures or at memories on Facebook, I can wish for those days back or I can cherish them for the memories made in that specific season. When I experience life in the present, I can savor it either for the treasures it brings or for what I'm learning and how I'm growing through a hardship. When I look ahead to the future, I can be grateful and excited for new seasons, new learning opportunities, new relationships, and new perspective up ahead. God gave us seasons for a reason. There's just something magical that happens when the temperature changes, the leaves change color, today shrivels up and tomorrow emerges as something completely new and different. 

A complete year of seasons

Today marks one complete year since we closed on our 1938 house (click here for pics of a year ago) and moved onto our own Indiana property. A full year since I cried on the way to the closing because I absolutely hated everything about the house, got lost on the way because I entered the address wrong in the GPS, arrived late, and then walked across the street to "celebrate" over lunch with my husband at a local Mexican restaurant. He may have been a happy man to close on all this land and start a new life out in the country, but I was not a happy woman, for sure. All I saw was an ugly, old dump, while all the Alspaughs envisioned so much potential for life and happiness. 

What a year it has been since that day. I'm so glad we are a year's progress out from that day. The small basement/storage area has been completely dug out and rebuilt, and we're past all the months of wading through mud just to get from the car to the house. The ugly green, yellow, and red kitchen with orange flooring and a rotted out sink and nasty oven is now a white, gray, and beige (with a hint of blue) farmhouse style still cabinetless kitchen with a new stainless steel sink and stove/oven to match our stainless steel fridge. 

The dark paneled, ugly wall-papered closet "master" bedroom is now a creamy beige colored guest bedroom/office/craft-room/David's room with a remodeled open closet. 

The bright blue second small bedroom is now an expanded "master" bedroom painted in a calming blue color with a rustic ceiling fan and brand new window, with a still-covered opening that will open up into a nice master bath/master closet eventually. The pink paneled third bedroom currently sits closed off as a storage room with no real walls (except the log walls it was built with) or insulation yet and floors that need leveled. 

The bathroom has new shelves, but no renovation has started there yet besides a new door. It's not the prettiest place, but it's not bad, and the shower's big. 

The living room with dirty, stinky walls has fresh, almond/beige paint with a red wall behind, and it houses a beautiful wood stove that kept us warm all winter, despite having to scrounge for firewood that most people would have had stocked up by the end of summer.  This summer Mike invented and built a place to store firewood outside that also serves as a carport for me to park my car. It's pretty ingenious, I think, and quite impressive. 

The laundry still needs a lot of work, but for now it houses a nice washer/dryer set we got a steal on, and it's working as a large closet/storage space while we wait to turn the old pink room into a closet. 

The built-in gun cabinet (I think that's what it was for) is now a lighted built in china cabinet with my tea set and other sentimental decorations. 

The front of the house no longer has huge bushes covering all the windows, but instead a small deck holds my two favorite outdoor chairs where I can sit and wave at any neighbors walking by or just soak in all the peaceful sights and sounds of nature all around me. 

The muddy driveway is covered in stone, the mucky horse pasture has turned into a beautiful side yard, and many of the dead pine trees that their horses killed have been cut down and drug out, adding more and more yard to enhance the property. The small shed serves as storage, and the larger shed (that will one day become a cabin) is in the process of getting its roof fixed so we can bring over the rest of the things we still have in storage elsewhere, including all of Mike's tools. 

In the last year here, I've walked well over 200 miles up and down my road, which is basically a nature trail with houses spread way out, most up on a hill, and a beautiful meadow on the other side of the street where I've been able to observe its God-given treasures spread out over all four seasons. I've met almost all of my neighbors (from 8 out of 11 houses) just by going out walking. Everyone is super friendly, and the more I meet, the more I find out that they also had to do a ton of work to make their house livable after moving in. I guess the peaceful nature out here in the country called to them the same way it called to Mike. I've watched a family of deer hang out in my woods and come out to eat in my yard. I've watched all the leaves change into magical colors, then fall to the ground and expose the vast amount of land that we now own. We've hosted family here where there's plenty of room for them to park a camper behind the house and set up their own space. We've had plenty of late night campfires and roasted a lot of smores. We had our own fireworks show in the front yard, watched our neighbor's fireworks show through the trees, and Mike and David have both had friends over to shoot guns out back rather than having to go to a shooting range. 

There are days I long for this place to still be much further along than it is (oh, how much I miss a bathtub!), but I see now what the rest of the Alspaugh's saw when they "celebrated" our closing on this dumpy, old house. If we accomplished this much in one year with some pretty major hardships to deal with (like the caved-in basement, the extensive muddy season, 9 months without a working stove/oven to cook with, a cold winter with little firewood reserve, and then a temporarily handicapped son for 3+ months, plus the financial set-back of that accident), I can only imagine what this place will be like another year from now.