It was late December/ early January. It was freezing, blizzarding, storming. It was the kind of cold where it’s like 10 degrees….in Georgia. There was snow and ice and yuck yuck yuck. I walked around in my North Face and a huge fluffy scarf every day. It was that kind of weather where you just want sweats and hoodies and blankets on blankets on blankets and a big mug of hot chocolate and a good book and then maybe a movie. And probably some pie. I don’t really know why you’d want pie, but it’s always a good time for pie.
I guess you could say it was winter.
I mean, it was winter. It was definitely winter. It was so much winter that several people from my squad struggled to get to launch on time, but, thank you Jesus, they all did.
And a few days later it felt like summer. We flew to Central America, where we spent the first 3 months of our Race. It was hot. H-O-T, hot. Especially in El Salvador. Oh. My. Gosh. I’m pretty sure I melted away half my body weight. And sometimes I would talk to people back in the States and they’d tell me how they had another snow day, or were going skiing, or had just made another scarf.
It felt like summer but my body was used to it being winter still. I was so confused.
And now I sit in Albania. It’s cool in the mornings and evenings, but beautiful during the day. Seventy and sunny. Jeans and T-shirts kind of weather. Pure heaven. And after the crazy hot summer that it feels like we’ve been through, I keep thinking it’s fall. And I wonder why all the trees are budding or why there aren’t leaves falling all on the ground. But then I remember it’s actually spring. And it’s actually spring in the States too, but I feel like it should be fall. And I don’t understand why everyone has been talking about spring breaks or finishing up school or summer plans….because it’s fall and they’re supposed to be getting ready to start a new school year…right?
It’s been interesting to not have the seasons go in order. Or to know that the following months are going to be hot again, but when I return home it will be winter. I love seasons. I love how different they are, how they slowly come and slowly leave, but how they always, always return. Summer may be gone for now, but without a doubt, it will be back.
Life is like that too. I mean, I guess seasons are life. But I mean, life life. In life there’s seasons. And a lot of times they come in cycles. But sometimes the seasons come at times that don’t make sense…kind of like how I feel about the actual seasons right now. Winter and then summer and then spring and then summer again.
We go through all of these seasons. We go through winters, where life seems to suck and it’s really hard and just plain yuck. It feels like the winter will never end. And right when you think it’s going to snow forever, the sun starts to shine and melt away the snow and the first little sprout of grass peaks up out of the ground. We go through springs and summers and falls too.
But here’s the thing: seasons always change. Always. So if you’re stuck in the middle of one of those down in the dumps, time to curl up in a ball, snuggle by the fire place, and block out the world kind of winters…remember that it won’t last forever. It won’t. It never does.
And if you’re in the middle of a summer, where life is just sunny and magical and carefree, rejoice. Live it up. Enjoy it. It won’t last forever. It never does.
The beauty of seasons is in fact that they don’t stick around. If there were no winter, you wouldn’t appreciate summer. Or if there were no fall, you wouldn’t appreciate spring. Remember that. If you didn’t have periods of winter in your life, you wouldn’t appreciate the summers. Or the falls or the springs.
Yes, winters are hard. It snows and snows and snows and snows. Sometimes it snows so much everyone sprints to Wal-Mart and cleans out the water and bread and canned soup. But it’s beautiful, because eventually the summer comes.
