I moved to New York in September of 1996. I had been living in Georgia where the temperature was still a toasty 90 degrees and the sun was beating hot on the world (well, the world as I saw it). The first night I was in my new home, I thought I was going to freeze. It was 50 degrees that night and the days were in the 60’s and very overcast. Within a few weeks, the leaves had started to change and fall to the ground and the temperature had fallen with them. I was raking leaves almost daily, my summer clothes were already packed away and my opinion of Central New York was of a most unpleasant nature. By Halloween, it was snowing, cold and the world (well, the world as I NOW saw it) was frozen in time under blankets of freezing white. I was shoveling snow, stranded in the house (I had never driven in snow and was terrified to try!), and my opinion of Central New York was that I didn’t really want to be here anymore. But, I stayed.
The spring couldn’t get here soon enough. It was still a little cool in my opinion, but it was far better than the freezing winter, and the re-birth of the world (the world as I saw it) was taking place in the flowers, trees, birds and animals around me. It was an enormous improvement. Then, summer came in its warmth and grand sunshine. I was able to spend hours outside in the sun, pull out my warm-weather clothes and the world (as I saw it) was right again. Maybe New York wasn’t so bad after all.
Summer doesn’t last forever, though, and it seemed like overnight, the cooler weather had returned and the leaves had started to change again. How would I ever survive another “end-of-the-year” in Central New York? More raking, more wind, more sweaters and unhappiness.
“God, why in the world did you bring me here? This is not my world (as I saw it) and I have no place here. I hate it. Please let me go home or change my heart.”
That afternoon, my mother called. She and my grandmother were going apple-picking and foliage looking and wanted me to come along. I wasn’t really thrilled with the idea, but I went anyway. I had the most wonderful afternoon. The apple smell in the orchard was like perfume that filled the air. The drive through the hills was breathtaking. The yellow, orange, red and green that painted the landscape was the most spectacular picture I had ever seen. By the time I got home, I loved autumn in New York. Even the autumn leaves blanketing the yard weren’t so bad.
Winter came and before I had time to complain to God about the cold world (as I saw it), He shut my mouth with a beautiful sight. There was a gentle snow falling, blanketing the yard. The sunrays were dancing off the snowflakes, small crystals reflecting rainbow colors as they drifted to the ground. The trees were wrapped in coats of white and two deer – a doe and young one – had come into the yard. The stark contrast of their brown coats against the snow was indescribable. My desire to complain about the weather was gone by the time the beautiful duo had departed my yard. Even the snow filling up the side walk wasn’t so bad.
I have lived in New York for 18 years now. My favorite seasons are still spring and summer, but the autumn and winter aren’t the terrible seasons I once thought them to be. God has shown me in these few years that each season has its own place. Spring brings new life, summer brings warmth and growth, autumn brings the harvest, and winter brings the peaceful rest. God has also shown me that the world is as we see it. If we look for Him in the seasons, whether seasons of the year or the seasons we are facing in our life, we will see the time and the purpose of them. He will never leave us to face our world alone, and we will find that the autumn leaves and winter snows have a place in His plan and are truly beautiful.
