Seasons

The length of our days is seventy years, eighty if we have strength! —Psalms 90:10 (NIV) Turning seventy was my wake-up call! How did I get here so quickly? What have I done with all those years? How much time is left? Did everyone have those thoughts or was God speaking to me, challenging me? My family planned a wingding of a party to celebrate my three score and ten, with line dancing to Beatles music and ’60s dress! Perhaps it was the music and clothes that took me back in time, triggering memories, igniting a desire to “write my memoirs”, to share all those memories that would disappear with me when I popped my clogs. There had been times when I’d recounted an event in my life, and the response was, “You should write a book!” Seriously? My parents didn’t reach seventy; they died at sixty and sixty-one, many of their memories going with them, unshared. Including my mother’s Christmas cake recipe! Shortly after my seventieth birthday, I made a start on my story. Initially, the intended audience was my children and grandchildren, and other family members and friends. But as “my story” unfolded, I wondered. Would it have wider appeal? Would it resonate with people who don’t know me? Would they be encouraged by seeing the different outcomes in my life when God was at the helm. Would my experiences help others to see God’s hand in their lives? Would it challenge them to write their story too? As I pondered this, Pastor Mike preached on telling our story: “Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story” (Psalms 107:2, NIV). The redeemed of the Lord! That’s me! Does the command in Psalm 107 apply to all of God’s children? Other scriptures told me yes: “Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation” (Joel 1:3, NIV). My life has not been spectacular—no momentous achievements, nothing to write about really, unless it’s recognising where God has been at work. So, I need to record, for my family and others, where He has answered prayers and directed paths, times when He has orchestrated events and changes in my life. Sometimes these events look like chance happenings, coincidences. But there have been others that could only be miracles. I can see them now as road markers, stepping stones as God guided me on my journey, not coincidences but God-incidences. Catherine Marshall’s book Meeting God at Every Turn impacted me thirty years ago. She recorded chapters of her life, the challenges, the victories, and the recognition of God’s hand in each situation. Reading this book made me realise that God has always had His hand on me, too. He has answered my prayers—spoken or thought. He has met me at pivotal times in my life, guided me, and protected me. Even when I was wallowing in the mire of my mistakes, He was there. At the time I didn’t always feel His presence or see His hand. But now, I can clearly identify those moments. Hindsight is a wonderful gift! God has, indeed, met me at every turn, just like Catherine Marshall’s story. Each season of my life has had its own climate—growth in different ways in each season, different challenges, and different countries. My spring years were spent in war-ravaged Liverpool, England. My large loving extended family was my security. Summer blossomed with immigration to Rhodesia—with romance, marriage, and children. And then on toward then end of summer, Rhodesia became Zimbabwe—taking me through to my autumn years. This was a season of spiritual growth and recognising God’s healing power. Late autumn saw New Zealand become my home, and I am still here in the winter of my years. Even in winter there are crossovers. Spring pops up. New visions beckon! Is life on earth a training ground for eternity—a sort of seventy- or eighty-year apprenticeship? As I review what I have written, my early years, spring, seem somewhat passive compared with summer, which burst forth, long and loud, blossoming with new learning experiences. Then those years eased into the calm of autumn, a time of reassessment, before relaxing into winter for evaluation. My temptation was to prune the loud, lively summer, but then a vital point would be missed. Life is a journey—a succession of pathways as God guides us through each stage, teaching eternal truths. Growth through the seasons of life is God’s design. There are markers, stepping stones on the journey. When my winter years come to an end, a new journey will begin.