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It has been about 16 months since I arrived home from the World Race. I find it odd that I still reference the World Race as my timeline for things. Some people use when they graduated college or when they got married, which are all significant moments in their lives. I think I use the World Race, because it helps me to still feel close to the experiences that changed me forever. Yet, I’ll be honest and say that since being back I have had many highs and lows, and unfortunately I have chosen to focus heavily on the lows.

            Where am I now? I am currently enrolled at Mercer University pursuing my master’s in clinical mental health counseling. That’s a long way of saying I want to help people professionally. When I am not in class, I work for my family’s business with flexible hours and enough income to be able to pay for school. Praise the Lord, am I right?  I live rent free with my grandma (the perks of being the favorite grandson), and I ride the elevator downstairs to work. I have two new wonderful sisters, as my brothers both married soon after I returned. My parents are still awesome, if not more so than ever, as I realize it the older I get. I assume “blessed” is the correct term to use to describe what all God has provided me with, and how many doors he has swung open with such force that the hinges fell off.

            However, for a whole year after returning home, I felt dead spiritually. I had just committed a long and exhausting 11 months of constant serving, Jesus chasing, kid tossing, and rice eating. Seriously, I ate a lot of rice and lost around 40 pounds. When I came home I wanted a break from all of it. The world racing, the team times, community, and the effort of spending time with God. I was ready for a new chapter, a new season, and a “break” from anything I did the previous 11 months. My heart was burned out, and instead of running to God to be ignited again, I casually stepped a short way from Him and flat lined. And to be honest, I was okay with it. Sure, I felt a little numb, but I didn’t care too much at the time. I just figured it was part of the “year of transitioning back home.” Then, as a year passed, I realized I had become frost bitten with no hope of regaining strength and life. Winter had come, and decided to stay.  

            Many tangible things in my life like my job and school seemed to be flowing smoothly. It was my perspective of focusing on the events in my life that were not working out like I thought that they would that correlated to me feeling very confused, lost, and distant from Jesus. I think in those times it is very easy to blame God for how we feel, or the unfair circumstances we think we are in, and deem Him responsible for the mess. And sometimes, I did blame Him. But I more so blamed myself, because I knew it was my doing. I didn’t try and get out of the season I was in. I set up camp and made an igloo for a home. There was part of me that enjoyed the cold. I didn’t mind the laziness of staying there cooped up in my despair. I fed myself of world and contentment. I sulked in the snow and chose to shiver rather than hike in search of warmer weather.

            Although, I was in winter, I did not acknowledge it much. By that I mean I did not confront myself about it. I knew where I was, but I avoided taking action to get out. It is very easy for me to sit and stay where I am, even amid spiritual aloneness, because laziness is easy. Fortunately, we have a God who does not give up on continuously giving us ways out, or opens our eyes to seeing the beauty of where we are. Even if you’re in the snowy tundra.

            I was in my group counseling class, when asked by the group leader, “what season are you in right now?” I had not thought about it that much. I had avoided confronting myself about anything regarding my spiritual deadness. But that question stirred something within me, and I couldn’t run away from it. I came to the realization I was no longer content on staying there in the frigidness of it. Like I had awoken from hibernation, and could not bear to sit any longer.

Spring is a funny season in Georgia. On March 3rd, it could be 68 degrees, and March 4th could come a random snowpocalypse. Spring does not just happen all at once. It is a gradual change. We still feel the bitterness of winter at times, but we sense the random hints of spring right around the corner. That is where I am. At times, the sting of the winter wind pierces my skin right to the bone. And then sometimes, I wake up sneezing with a dusting of yellow pollen on me.

For me, a lot of the seasons I experience require perspective to not lose my mind. Winter is cold and barren, but it can also, be absolutely stunning as the snow falls around you. I was directing my attention so much on the cold that I didn’t look around me and notice the smoke from the fires, the snowmen that were being crafted, and the people huddled around me offering to keep me warm. And most of all, I never paused to look up and notice that the sun never stopped shining. The snow and ice were still surrounding me, but the sun never went anywhere. It just kept shining and providing light, despite whatever the weather chose to do that day.

I hope that whatever season you may be in, that you take time to appreciate the good things that surround you, the people that care about you, and the sun that continuously shines despite the storms, the snow, or temperature. Maybe, we can shift our perspective a little. Snow makes for making great snow angels and snowmen. The rain brings water to the thirsty. The heat…well the Georgia heat is terrible, but I’m sure there’s a cool metaphor for that, too. Whether it’s Fall, Winter, Spring, or Summer you will find Jesus present. Make the most of where you are, be thankful for what and who you have, and never let the weather dictate your joy. Because the sun is always shining. And with every Winter, there is a hint of Spring.

 

 

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