Seasons.
“Farmers who wait for perfect weather never plant. If they watch every cloud, they never harvest. Just as you cannot understand the path of the wind or the mystery of a tiny baby growing in its mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the activity of God, who does all things.”
Ecclesiastes 11:4-5
Last month, I packed my bags and moved to Europe. For the next 12 months, I’ll be living in London as I pursue my Master's in Creative Writing. There is so much to love about London — the food, the people, the vibrant culture. Every day I find myself more in awe of this city. One thing I am still getting adjusted to, however, is the rain. At this point, my umbrella has become an essential part of my daily uniform. I was telling a friend this a few weeks ago, to which he responded with a popular British idiom:
“There is no ‘bad’ weather; only unsuitable clothing.”
I think about this statement every time I feel the onset of rain here in the UK. The saying proves to be true each time. When I’m prepared, the rain is a welcomed companion, adding a dose of spontaneity and playful unpredictability to the day, but when I’m not prepared, the rain feels like an expensive inconvenience, messing with my clothes, my hair, and my plans. Most recently, I’ve been challenged to consider the ways in which I approach life in the same way. Just like that old British saying, maybe there are no ‘bad’ seasons; only unsuitable mindsets?
Now, I know…I know…depending on what season you find yourself in, that may sound like a crazy or even irresponsible thought. Of course, there are bad seasons, some might say, and perhaps you’re right. But also, I can’t help but wonder if maybe it is how we handle a season that ultimately makes it good or bad, and not just what occurs within it.
For example, my first 24 hours in London were kind of a nightmare. Within hours of moving into my apartment, I realized I would need to move out, and fast. I can’t explain all the reasons why, but deep within my soul, I felt unsettled in my new environment, the type of unsettling that disrupts your nervous system and begs you to do something about it. So, I did. The very next morning, jet lagged and all, I made my way into the city to search for a new home.
Breaking my lease just a day into my new adventure was definitely not on my 2026 bingo card, but in that moment, I knew I had to show up for myself. As I did, I thought about my Grandmother in her early 20s and the life she made for herself in New York after spending her formative years in St. Lucia. I also thought about my Dad and his first year in Chicago after leaving the comfort of his home in Jamaica. I thought about Psalm 23 and the promise God has given us to never leave or forsake us. With these memories in hand, I faced the unexpected and inconvenient circumstances before me and lunged ahead with a deep sense of peace and confidence. A few days later, I moved into a new, better apartment.
I tell you this story because one of the gifts from my time thus far here in London has been the gift of perspective. There is no perfect place. There are no perfect people. Just life and experiences — some good, some bad, but all with the potential to be meaningful.
Ecclesiastes 3 puts it like this:
"There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,”
Isn’t this strangely comforting? As much as we will all have to endure seasons of sheer pain and difficulty, we are also promised seasons of great joy and triumph. Just like the rain on a quintessential London day, nothing lasts forever.
So maybe it's not always the weather that needs to change in our lives, but how we show up within it. And I wonder…what might today’s 'weather' (i.e., the planned or unforeseen circumstances in your world) be asking of you? Where is there 'rain' (read: discomfort) and how can you find an umbrella? Where is there 'sun' (read: joy) and how can you bask in its warmth?
I can’t say the answers for you, just like you can’t reveal my answers to me, but here’s what I know: our perspective throughout the process matters.
If you’re in a season of mourning, know that you will dance again. If you’re in a season of planting, know that life will bloom again. Nothing lasts forever. So, may the rain in your life, no matter where you find it, serve its purpose, and may the sun in your life, no matter where you find it, remind you that all seasons are worth it.
Happy Thursday,