The calendar says it’s officially fall. Big box stores are covered in rustic pumpkins and Halloween decorations. Coffee shops are advertising pumpkin spice and maple-flavored everything. But despite all these signals, despite the truth that we’re actually, firmly in fall, our southern weather has not gotten the message. I want to break out my cute boots and fall flannels, but if I did, I’d be one sad, sweaty lumberjack in this southern heat. It’s about this time of year that I wonder, ‘will this humidity ever quit?’ I want to skip ahead to the chilly nights. I want to wear long pants and have it be a pleasant experience. I want to stop cosplaying fall. I want out of this season – metaphorically speaking – and into the next.
How often do we do this? How often do we wish away the here and now, hoping for something better? To be fair, some of us have it rough in the here and now. We’re sick, or stressed, or starving for community. It’s understandable to look forward to the end of a painful situation. But oftentimes that end is slow in coming. Oftentimes, our trying to force a solution only makes things worse, like me forcing fall and overheating in a flannel. Drawing on a different season but making the same point, the Canadian proverb says, “If you choose not to find joy in the snow, you’ll have less joy in your life but the same amount of snow.”
To take it one step further, how often do we discount God’s work in our lives today, because we’re waiting on a staggering, beautiful miracle tomorrow? How often do we take stock of our actual lives – the chores, the commutes, the routines, the utter commonness of it all – and fancy a future where we’re more spiritual and less encumbered by everyday tasks? How often do we wish today away, and hope for a tomorrow where God has our full attention and devotion?
Friends, we can wish we were out of one season and onto the next. We can wish for a more fall-y fall. But truthfully, today is all we’ve been given. This is our only reality – our mixed-bag lives of joys and sorrows, opportunities and frustrations. Wishing them away for a better tomorrow robs us of the growth we could experience today. God is working in you right now. He is present and speaking even in the painful moments, the mundane ones too. God doesn’t love some theoretical, future version of you. He doesn’t love the hopeful, spiritual you that you project out onto tomorrow. That’s not real or promised. God loves you now. God loves you today, exactly as you are. He’s given you the gift of today, so be present to it.
Tomorrow will come. Cooler weather will come. New seasons will come, both literal and metaphorical, and we’ll rejoice when they do. But let’s commit to rejoice in the meantime, too. I’ll think of you today, as I pull on shorts in October and instantly sweat as I walk out the door. There’s joy to be found today, and I’ll do my best to find it.
Elise
