seasons
two summers ago i attended a women’s conference in montreat, north carolina. there, we examined and discussed the various and brillient ways in which women are making a difference in the world. i was inspired by talk of women who brought about peace in liberia, founded women’s shelters, and lived lives of compassion in calcutta. but i was also discouraged about the modesty of my own little life as a part-time minister and full time mother. i felt the urge to do something bigger and more important, and when i expressed this to the speaker in a forum full of conferees, i opened myself up to the following feedback that came to me from all directions for the rest of the week. it generally went something like this:
“you are young, and smart, and your life is full of potential for making a difference inside of your home and out in the world. your motherhood is every bit as important as your career; the effect you have on your children is equally as important as the effect you have as a minister. YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO IT ALL AT ONCE. there are seasons of your life that are spent largely at home, and there are seasons that can be spent engaging with the world one important project at a time. be patient. don’t get ahead of yourself. enjoy every season for the pleasures it brings and the good it allows you to do.”
this is really good advice, however cliche it has become. and i try to remember it when it feels like what i’m doing is too small, and when i’m trying to resist the urge to cram my already full life with preschool fundraisers, additional preaching gigs, ideations of elaborate dinner parties, books i want to write, et cetera.
at its worst, the seasons metaphor could lure women into satisfaction with lives that are too small. but for me, a constant crammer of too many activities into folds of time and space that are not built to hold them, the seasons metaphor serves its best purpose. it helps me to see the advantages of my current season, and it makes me want to embrace them for the short-lived gems that they are.
pictured in this post are eight seasons paintings i created for my dad for christmas ’09.
March 7th, 2010 at 4:01 pm
thank you for this one.
it seems to me sometimes that this “season” of my life is more long-term…just like winter can feel never-ending. Then I am reminded, like I was this morning by the first crocus blooming in my yard, that the seasons change…and sometimes when you least expect them! I have my eyes open now for the signs of the next season!
March 7th, 2010 at 6:55 pm
MA, I love this. Thank you so much for sharing it, and for giving us the reminder that having it all doesn’t mean that we do it all at once, nor that we expect we’ll be all things to all people and needs. Wonderful.
March 8th, 2010 at 7:08 am
So very true – love the seasons metaphor – words to live by. The collection of paintings you made for your Dad are lovely