God Is Preparing Me for a New Season

There is something holy about being outside in the summertime.

At this present moment, I am sitting in nature, overlooking all this green, all this beauty, all this life stretching out in front of me. The trees are full. The breeze is soft. The birds are doing what birds do—singing like they have no bills, no stress, no deadlines, no worries. And honestly? It feels remarkable.

There is something to be said about summer.

Summer has a way of reminding you that God is still creating. God is still blooming things. God is still bringing color back to places that once looked bare. And when you really pause long enough to look around—when you get quiet enough to notice the leaves, the light, the warmth, the way the whole earth seems to be breathing—you cannot help but say:

God is remarkable.

And I believe that is the perfect segue into today’s message:

God is preparing me for a new season.

Can we get an amen?

God is preparing me.

God is preparing you.

God is preparing us for a new season.

And sometimes, before we can step into that new season, we have to look back—not to stay there, not to punish ourselves, not to reopen every wound—but to remember what God already brought us through.

When I look back over the last five years of my life, I cannot help but think about all the moments I thought were the end. And I could go back further, believe me. But let’s just stick with five years because, for some reason, five sounds right.

Over the last five years, there were times I truly believed, in my conscious mind, that it was over.

The end-all, be-all.

There were seasons when hopelessness felt louder than faith. Seasons when sorrow sat heavy on my chest. Seasons when I felt alone in my thoughts, alone in my pain, alone in this big world trying to make sense of things that did not make sense at the time.

And yes, I have shared before that I go to therapy. I believe in therapy. No shade to anyone who does not feel called to it, but for me, I believe it is important to have someone safe to talk to—someone who can hold space while you process what is happening inside your heart and mind.

Because a person is not meant to be an island.

We were not created to carry everything alone.

So if you are reading this right now and you are in a season where you feel lonely, where your thoughts feel too heavy, where your heart feels like it has been fighting in silence, I want to lovingly caution you:

Reach out.

Reach out to someone safe. Reach out to someone kind. Reach out to someone who can help you remember that your life matters. There are people who would love to support you, pray with you, listen to you, and help you get through what you are facing.

Because pain has a way of making us believe we are the only ones.

But we are not.

How many times have you felt like, “This is it”?

If you grew up watching Sanford and Son, you remember when Fred Sanford would grab his chest and say, “Elizabeth, I’m coming to join you, honey. This is the big one!”

And sometimes life feels exactly like that.

The big one.

That heartbreak felt like the big one.

That loss felt like the big one.

That betrayal felt like the big one.

That financial pressure felt like the big one.

That season of anxiety, burnout, or confusion felt like the big one.

The sorrow was so harsh that you could not eat. You could not sleep. And even when you finally did fall asleep, you woke up in the middle of the night with awful thoughts of despair, wondering how you were going to make it through another day.

You could not see past your nose.

You could not imagine a future.

You could not imagine peace.

But here is the good news:

A season is not a sentence.

Just because you are in it does not mean you will stay in it.

Right now, in the Northern Hemisphere, we have just crossed into summer. The summer solstice has passed—the longest day of the year, the day when the sun gives us its most extended light.

And then, little by little, the days begin to shorten.

I know, I know. Nobody wants to hear that when summer just got here. We want the sun to stay. We want the long days. We want the warm evenings, the outdoor walks, the golden light, the feeling that everything is alive and possible.

But nature is always teaching us something.

Even summer shifts.

Even the longest day does not stay the longest forever.

And sorrow is like that too.

Pain can feel permanent when you are inside of it. Grief can feel like it has taken up residence in your bones. Despair can feel like the weather of your whole life.

But Ecclesiastes reminds us that there is a time for everything.

A time to weep and a time to laugh.

A time to mourn and a time to dance.

A time to lose and a time to gain.

A time to tear down and a time to build.

There are seasons.

And if there is a season of sorrow, then there can also be a season of restoration.

If there is a season of loss, there can be a season of rebuilding.

If there is a season where you feel buried, there can be a season where you realize you were actually being planted.

That is why I can say with my whole chest:

God is preparing me for a new season.

And God is preparing you too.

Now, let me tell you something that happened to me recently.

I was trying to clean up my laptop. And listen, for those of us still learning this whole computer, database, file-folder life, please come to the front because you are not alone.

One thing about me? I cannot do a busy desktop. I like order. I like folders. I like things to be where they belong. Maybe that is my Virgo moon helping my Gemini energy, because baby, Geminis can be all over the place.

So I decided I was going to clean things up. I started moving things around, putting files in the trash, trying to get my desktop looking peaceful again.

And then I realized something.

Sweetheart, I was about to delete a whole lot of things I still needed.

A lot.

So I tried to restore everything back from the trash. But when I did that, all kinds of things started downloading back onto my desktop. Things I wanted. Things I did not want. Things I had forgotten about. Things that looked like they came from three lifetimes ago.

It was a whole potpourri of digital chaos.

So I called Apple.

And I was blessed to speak with someone who was kind and helpful. But unfortunately, as they explained to me, there was no magic button.

No quick fix.

No one-click miracle to undo the mess.

I was going to have to manually fix it.

And let me tell you, that is going to take some time.

Now, at one point in my life, that would have sent me over the edge. I would have been frustrated, irritated, upset, and possibly ready to make everyone else feel the weight of my inconvenience.

But something has shifted in me.

The representative said something that stayed with me. They said it was refreshing to speak with someone so positive, because a lot of people would have been going bonkers over a situation like this.

And I understood that.

Because once upon a time, I may have been one of those people.

But what I have learned over the years is this:

Pivot.

We are not saving lives here.

Was this part of my schedule for the day? No.

Was this how I wanted to spend time I will never get back? Absolutely not.

But you know what?

Perspective.

Perspective will change your life.

No matter what is consuming your time, no matter what state of mind you find yourself in, no matter what painful situation is happening in your life right now, your perspective can make the situation worse—or it can help you walk through it with grace.

I could have screamed.

I could have complained.

I could have spiraled.

I could have said, “Why is this happening to me?”

But this beautiful soul on the phone with me was just doing their job. It was early in the morning. They were trying to help. Who was I to make their day harder because of a mistake I made from not knowing what would happen?

I learned something.

And going forward, I know what not to do.

Even better, this situation is forcing me to do something that had already been calling for my attention: organize.

My desktop was looking a little chaotic anyway. Now I have the opportunity to sit down, remove what I do not need, organize what I do need, and create a better system for the work I am building.

So what looked like a mess may actually be preparation.

What looked like an inconvenience may actually be alignment.

What looked like wasted time may actually be God nudging me into order before the next season begins.

And that is how life works sometimes.

God will use the pain, the sorrow, the mishaps, the delays, and the interruptions to prepare us for something new.

Not because God enjoys watching us struggle.

Not because we are being punished.

Not because we are forgotten.

But because God can use everything.

Even the inconvenience.

Even the mistake.

Even the season that feels confusing.

Even the moment when you say, “Lord, what is going on?”

God can use it.

Instead of saying, “This is setting me back,” what if we asked, “What is this teaching me?”

Instead of saying, “I am losing time,” what if we said, “Maybe this is helping me slow down and see what needs my attention?”

Instead of saying, “This is not working for me,” what if we asked, “How might God be working through this?”

That is not denial.

That is wisdom.

Because life is always going to bring us moments we did not plan for. The question is not whether life will interrupt us. The question is how we will respond when it does.

And for me, I am learning to respond with gratitude.

It is a privilege that I have a laptop.

It is a privilege that I can call someone for help.

It is a privilege that I have created so much material over the years that now needs sorting.

It is a privilege that I get to organize my work, my thoughts, and my systems for where God is taking me next.

Who knows what I may rediscover in the process?

Who knows what old ideas, old notes, old dreams, or old pieces of writing might come back to bless me?

Who knows what God may use from what I thought was a mess?

That is the power of perspective.

I remember one of the toughest seasons of my life. I was burned out. My nerves could not continue the way they were going. I had to change so many things. I had to walk away from things in order to save my life.

And outside of God, close family, friends, and therapy, one of the things that helped me survive was perspective.

Finding beauty in the small things.

Finding gratitude for what was still working.

Finding peace in what was still available.

Finding evidence that God had not left me, even when life felt heavy.

That is why nature is such a gift.

When you step outside and feel the breeze, when you hear the birds, when you see the trees standing tall, when you look at the green that came back after winter, you remember:

Life continues.

God continues.

Growth continues.

And maybe you are continuing too, even if it does not feel like it yet.

Maybe this is not the end.

Maybe this is the preparation.

Maybe God is clearing your desktop, your mind, your heart, your schedule, your relationships, your habits, your expectations—so you can enter the next season with more peace, more clarity, and more faith.

Because God’s promise does not lapse.

Just because you are in a season that does not feel fruitful does not mean fruit is not coming.

Just because the ground looks quiet does not mean nothing is growing underneath.

Just because you had to pivot does not mean you failed.

Sometimes the pivot is the blessing.

I had planned to take a yoga class. But there was a heat wave coming, and being outside too long was not the healthiest choice. I had already practiced yoga at home, so instead of forcing my original plan, I pivoted.

Now I am here in nature.

Breathing.

Reflecting.

Listening to the birds.

Feeling the breeze.

And maybe that is the lesson.

You do not always need life to go according to the plan in order for God to meet you.

Sometimes God meets you in the pivot.

Sometimes God meets you in the pause.

Sometimes God meets you under a tree, in the middle of a summer afternoon, with your heart finally soft enough to hear:

I am preparing you for a new season.

So if you are in pain right now, hold on.

If you are coming out of something, breathe.

If you are about to enter a transition you do not yet understand, trust God.

And if life feels messy, do not assume it is meaningless.

God can use this too.

Stay in peace.

Stay in love.

Stay empowered.

And remember:

The season is changing.

God is preparing you.

And the new thing is already on its way.

For more posts like this, visit: www.elizabethmagicalgarden.com

 

Peace, Love and Blessings Lovelies Xoxo.

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