A True Autumn

 The trees outside our home turned to gold and flame red and, to the delight of my kids, carpeted our sidewalk with a layer that crunches underfoot. The experience of a true autumn has not been a part of our family's history with kids until now, with balmy, mild transitional seasons in Florida, Jordan, then Florida again. Thanksgivings in the seventies, with green grass, palm trees, and flamingo yard ornaments doesn't give the experience that a brisk, November day with a chill in the air laced with burning wood and the smell of damp, fallen leaves does. 

We are in a new home. Again. And together. I review all of the transitions that we have lived through in the last year and a half- making an overseas return back to the States, settling into two households continents apart, weathering a season of separation, then selling a home, coming back together again, moving to another state, buying another home, and settling into a new community. Did we just do that...really? I am again amazed at God's grace. 

The seasons in Northern Virginia are distinct, each one set apart from the other by dramatic changes in the foliage, in temperature and in driving conditions (can't wait to venture out in the snow, woohoo!). That life moves in seasons has been both an encouragement to me (in difficult seasons- 'This too shall pass!') and challenging to me (I am entering into another one of these seasons!). After several crazy busy seasons, this one has unfolded in mute colors, quiet days at home and a seeming slow connection to our community. 

Autumn has two distinct meanings for me. One is time of change and, not to be morbid, a time to die. Our annuals on the front porch have a few more weeks until they fold, our lawn has become a collecting plate for leaves of all shapes and colors. The trees are becoming skeletal (is that a word?) The other meaning for me, which is one I want to dwell on this month, is a preparation rest. Winter is a time when everything in the natural world, at least on the outside, is at rest. 

After living life in constant motion, taking on roles of both parents, for a time, I find it hard to give up certain actions that have become second nature to me. Not because they are good for me, but because they worked. But what worked in one season is not necessarily going to work in another. And I realize that the ability to move at the pace I did last year was God given- for that season. But now, my body and heart and mind need rest. 

Does this resonate for you?

Why is it so hard for women, mothers, to allow for seasons of rest? In my productive, driven mindset, I want to continue accomplishing, contributing, producing-- in outward ways that give me that sense of quick fulfillment. Yet more and more, my body and my heart are giving me warning signs that I need to slow down. These are three major ways I know I need to get more rest:

1. Even when I am getting a good night's sleep, I feel like my body is dragging and I have to push continually even to get the basics done.

2. I am quick to snap at the kids over small issues and am continually irritable and grouchy.

3. I have lost enthusiasm and energy for even things that are good for me, that usually bring joy- for example, reading my bible, going out for a walk or meeting with friends.

In preparation for their winter's rest, trees drop their leaves and enter into a state of dormancy which is vital to their later growth in the spring. From a little digging around the web, I found this quotation on trees which I think has broader meaning: 

It is possible to force a tree to evade dormancy if you keep it inside and with a stable temperature and light pattern. However, this is usually bad for the tree. It's natural for trees to go through dormancy cycles, and the lifespan of the plant is dramatically increased if the tree is not allowed to go dormant for a few months. Trees have winter dormancy for a reason, and it's best to just let them run their course as nature intended. 

(Eileen Campbell, "How Do Trees Survive Winter?" Mother Nature Network, January 13, 2012



Ok, so we obviously cannot go "dormant" as moms for very long without things going into pandemonium, but there have to be some ways I can care for myself and allow for rest, especially after an unusually busy season. 

Some ways I have thought of that I want to allow pause in my day (and this is a work in progress):

-- "Three Things" I learned this from my Mary Kay mentor, Ginger, when I sold their products for a short time. She said to write down three goals you have for the following day-- if you that is all you can handle, stop there. If you have more energy, write three things in the areas of spiritual growth, exercise, home, etc. Right now, I have only energy for three things: email Sara, call Doctor's office, hang pictures...etc.

-- Lay down for a short nap in the afternoon. My friend Rebecca tries to do this every day if she can. And she has older kids. No matter what the ages, we all need a pause! And laying down means the kids also need to be having their own quiet times. This is a way of teaching them the discipline of rest. 

-- Asking God to order my priorities each day. I have a natural inclination to be in control. I am not. When I let God determine my steps, I am entrusting myself to the One who knows when to push and when to pause. I often don't know the difference and end up spinning my wheels. This is the last but probably most important thing I want to start applying today. 

God specially designed the natural world with seasons that are different and which lovingly protect and care for each animal, flower and plant. He made us likewise, intending that we allow Him to lead us into the seasons with His perspective, His purposes and His power.