Seasons.

With few exceptions, our favorite season is not year-round. In the wilting heat of summer, one could don a scarf and mittens to experience winter’s chill by opening freezer doors in the grocery store or recreate summer by sitting, bikini-clad, in front of the fire and listening to a tape of ocean waves .

Usually, we just accept that seasons are…seasonal, and merrily groan through the ones we dislike. Eventually, our favorite returns—that time of year we feel more alive, productive, rejuvenated.

And then there are the seasons of life—times of contentment, grief, joy, conflict. We know those. They follow no pattern. Their arrival is unexpected. Sometimes it seems the difficult ones linger while the pleasant ones are fleeting.

But for many of us, the hardest season is that of waiting. The Bible addresses ‘waiting’ in many places: Psalm 24:17; Isaiah 40:31; Psalm 37:7-9; etc.

Today, in my own season of what feels like unproductive waiting, Psalm 1:3 spoke to me. “…like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season…”

During this ‘waiting season’, I’m being prepared for something I cannot foresee. Is it for increased writing ministry? Is it relational or professional? Is it for a time of crisis or increased productivity? I don’t know—which being a ‘ducks in a row’ person drives me to chocolate bingeing.

My focus must be not on second guessing God, but on remaining planted, soaking up nourishment and building reservoirs for whatever the future holds.