The older I get the faster it seems the seasons change. Perhaps this is what is meant by acceleration. Time doesn’t slow down as you age. It speeds up.

Didn’t I just put those Christmas decorations in storage?
What do you mean the stove is ten years old? That’s our new stove.
My baby granddaughter has a learner’s driving license? How did that happen?

So many hours have slipped by in the dailiness of life. For years on end tedious routines filled in the moments that gave us freedom to make changes. I thought I would never finish school and be out on my own.

Then I was responsible for paying my own bills and making my own decisions.

I thought the diaper-changing, toddler-chasing years were my whole world.

And then they weren’t.

I thought I would never see the end of practically living in the car, driving the kids to school and games and music lessons and church functions.

And then they got in their own cars and drove away.

I thought I would never hear the end of students singing scales as they stood beside my piano.

Now my studio piano is silent as my computer keyboard clacks away.

I thought our parents would always be around to talk to, even if they needed more help.

Now there is only one left and communication is difficult.

It’s snowing today, and even though it feels as though it has arrived too soon it is late November. It’s time for the valley to turn white. The season changes once again. At a time of life when one expects to feel more settled changes seem to happen more rapidly than ever. It’s strange, this sense of time thing.

While it seems the only consistent thing in life is change, yet I am more aware that the most consistent thing in life is the love of God, which never changes.

The words of a song came to mind this morning.

In every season, in every change
You are near
In every sorrow,
You are my strength
You are near

A peace in the storm
Your voice I will follow
In weakness I rise
Remembering You hold my world

I’m holding on to hope
I’m holding on to grace
I’m fully letting go
I’m surrendered to Your ways
The anchor for my soul
Father You will never change
I love You, I love You

(From Anchor by Kari Jobe, Brian Johnson and Cody Carnes)

Anyway, the snow reminds me that it’s time to quit procrastinating. It’s a new season. I have a new assignment. I mourn the loss of colour and the ease of walking in the forest, but winter is a time when writers and artists are less distracted and can get down to work.

It’s time.

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