Seasons Change

“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:” (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

 

This time of the year always makes me a bit wistful, like something is slipping through my fingers that I want to grasp and hold tightly to. Beach sand. Warm breezes. An incomplete thought. Relationships.

This unsettledness seems to be brought on by two things. One is the crisp morning air. I can look out the window and see the horse and cows lift their faces in the morning coolness, breathing it in. Even they know change is coming.

The second is my hummingbird feeder on the back porch. In the middle of summer, it is the center of much activity. Once the weather starts to cool, it hangs idle. I leave nectar in it longer than most, because you never know when a lone traveler will need energy for her journey. But sooner or later, all my beautiful jeweled hummers leave for warmer places.img_0800

It reminds me of a time in my life about twenty-five years ago. We were living in Birmingham, Alabama, and were very active in the Church there. There was a young man in the Church who was from Florida, but was attending college in Birmingham. He spent a lot of time in our home. Everyone who ever met him, loved him. When it came time for his graduation, and for him to move back home, I was so distraught that I could hardly stand it. I just couldn’t bear the thought of him not being in our day to day lives.

Fast forward a quarter of a century…Our family is now very involved with Global Missions, something we could have never foreseen twenty-five years ago. My husband schedules Missionaries to be in Church services all over our state while they are traveling on deputation.

Would you believe that young man from our Birmingham days is now involved in the Associates In Missions program of the United Pentecostal Church?! This means that one day, in the relatively near future, this man’s family will travel through our state on deputation and my husband is likely to be the one scheduling his services in our Churches. I am looking so forward to catching up and enjoying his new season right along with him for a while.

As I’ve grown older and matured a little, I’ve realized that not everyone that God brings into my life is going to be a permanent fixture. People have to follow the path that God is leading them down. There are seasons in each of our lives, and occasionally those seasons overlap.

People come and go in our lives for many reasons. Schooling, jobs, illness, vacations, military, dreams, passions, travels, bad decisions, good decisions, death and endless other reasons that we often have no control over.

Just remember it’s all about seasons. Whoever God has placed in your life during this season of time, be a true friend to them. Cherish them. Add value to their lives. Then when a season of change is in the air, don’t hold on so tightly that you nor they can enjoy what is right around the corner.

As for me, I’m going to leave my hummingbird feeder up for another week or two. When I’m sure there won’t be anymore visitors, I’ll take it down, wash it up and store it until Spring. Until then, I’m going to turn my attention to the feeder in my front yard. It hasn’t had much traffic through the summer months. Now that cooler weather is coming, my winter birds will be getting hungry.

Warm Regards, -Pat

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QUESTIONS TO PONDER:

1. Have you lost someone and had no control over the situation?

2. If so, how does this affect your present relationships?

3. Do you hold on too tightly, or perhaps choose not to get too close?

4. Do you allow Jesus to be your constant and most treasured Friend?

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Camma’s Tribute

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“Camma” 3/04 – 9/12/16

My oldest son’s childhood friend passed away a few days ago. Logan worked for that little golden puppy the whole summer of his fourteenth year. It was hard work and quite a bit of responsibility working at the kennel where she was born, but he didn’t mind at all. He passed the time making big plans and dreaming big dreams for the two of them.

Every hour that he put into cleaning kennels, he was also being mentored by the best dog trainer around. Oh, he learned how to muck a pen, for sure, but he also learned self discipline, patience and respect. As he followed that old trainer around and did his bidding day after day, Logan thought he was working for the price of a puppy, when he was really learning to be a man.

Once he brought that wiggly canine home, they were inseparable. They tromped through every field and swamp within walking distance, and when they got tired, they rode. The four wheeler, the ranger, the truck, the boat. Camma loved to ride. Logan would drive and she would sit up tall and smile.

One of his big plans was to make her a great duck hunting dog. She never actually cared much for jumping into icy water or holding feathery birds in her mouth. She was a good sport, though, and would do anything that Logan asked of her. Mice. Now that was something Camma got excited about. One little rodent darting through the grass or a scurry under a brush pile would turn that pudgy pup into a well honed weapon of mouse destruction. Once we all stopped trying to make her something she wasn’t, everyone was happier for it. She was some kind of mouser.

There was only one time in Camma’s twelve years that she and Logan had a true falling out. He had wanted a litter of puppies so badly. All of the arrangements were made and the whole family anticipated sweet puppy breath. The big day arrived in the middle of a horrid, storm-ridden cold snap. You can imagine the pandemonium that ensued when Logan found brand new puppies scattered all over the muddy kennel. Of course, Momma and the whole brood were immediately brought into the basement and made comfortable.

We grieved over the first pup that didn’t make it through the storm. We comforted the anxious mom when she laid on the second pup and it didn’t recover. When Logan happened upon her intentionally doing away with a third pup, I was afraid for her life. The remaining three pups were raised on a bottle, and Camma went back to doing what she did best, being a boy’s best friend.

Logan came through his teenage years with Camma at his side. It wasn’t uncommon to see them in a distant field, coming home from their latest adventure. Logan would be talking, and Camma would be listening. I’m sure she heard all of his woes about girls and siblings and being a Pastor’s kid.

1 Corinthians 13:11 says, “…when I became a man, I put away childish things.” Logan’s friendship with Camma must not have been childish. After he got married and moved out on his own, he would still come over every couple of weeks to visit his childhood friend. I would look out the window and see them coming through the field. Logan would be talking, and Camma would be listening. Often they would be riding the ranger. Logan would be driving, and Camma would be sitting up tall and smiling.

Yes, today there is sadness because of the freshly turned soil under the pine trees. Yet, there is also much thankfulness for the memories of a little yellow pup and how she helped to raise the big, strong man who lives down the road.

-Pat Vick (All Rights Reserved 9/16/16)