Seasons

Sunday afternoon Nick and I took a ride in the Jeep with my parents and we headed up to one of the local reservoirs to see what the water levels looked like. After we checked out the dam, my dad took us on a little detour to this cute little town called Dobbins, around a lake and through the Sierra Mountains to a section of the Yuba River.

It was a warm afternoon, and while I would have enjoyed taking the boat out on the water, I settled for catching some coolness as we drove through the mountain shade.

As we drove around a few bends in the road, we came upon this section of mountainside that was covered with charred trees and portions of dead grass. Shortly after we came upon this view, my mom recalled the fire that swept though this area last summer.

Wildfires are a pretty common thing during a California summer. Factor in some strong northern winds with the dry ground and it can quickly turn into a chaotic, smoky, sometimes devastating time of year.

Because I am such an outdoors kind of gal, I was absolutely mesmerized by what my eyes were seeing. Thousands of trees that looked like black twigs sticking out all over the land. It was so incredibly barren. I thought, how frightening for the residents in this area. Some houses looked abandoned, some houses were up for sale, and then there were driveways that led to nothing but a foundation with a camper sitting off to the side. Bricks were stacked up. Piles of metal gathered into heaps. I also thought about the wildlife that once roamed that portion of land. What a sight that would have been while flames engulfed hundreds of acres.

We drove to the base of the valley where the Yuba River runs. There is a very large water power plant nestled at the bottom. So I’m standing there, listening to the water pour out through these enormous tubes that run from the top of the mountain into the river. The river is raging, a man is fishing. The sky is a deep blue and the sun is blasting warmth. Then I looked up to see the brown, dead hillside. And I wondered to myself… How long will it be before it turns vibrantly green? How long will it be before new seeds are planted and the evergreen trees begin to sprout up? When will the wildflowers take over and spread like watercolor on an artist’s canvas? This is almost depressing to look at…

On our way back up the hill, I asked my dad to pull over so I could get out and walk for a bit. I touched what remained of a Manzanita tree. The bark on them is typically a deep, almost mahogany red and very smooth in appearance. This one was bare. No leaves, just black branches. On the side of the road was a tree that had been cut down.
I’m pretty sure this was all in my imagination, but it was almost as if you could still smell the ashes…

In a place where I would generally be snapping pictures like mad, I had my camera out, took a few shots and then looked for some indication of life. Newness.

And there was. Just off to the shoulder of the road, there were traces of green. A handful of wildflowers beginning to strengthen and take over. Nothing much…but it was a glimpse of what’s to come.

While enduring the winter season, it is typical to become anxious for the spring and summer seasons to arrive. The funny thing is that when they get here, we approach them with hesitation, not knowing what devastation it may bring. And we complain about the heat. The dryness. It’s like that old saying goes, “Sometimes good isn’t good enough.”

The seasons we go through in our lives are quite often the same. We wait with great expectation. Sometimes we may even try to rush through from one season to the next. …And like the mountainside in Yuba County, sometimes the season brings death and destruction.

I learned this past weekend of yet another broken marriage within our church. Someone of whom I worked beside as a youth leader. Her husband is going through this season. I stood and talked to a very dear man who has been battling a disease that will ultimately take his life. His wife will one day be walking through this season as well.

These times often come upon us unwarranted, unwanted, and undeserving. They approach us when we least expect them. They hurt, they can haunt, and it may feel like these seasons last for an eternity…

The good news is, that whenever we find ourselves in such a season, God is working behind the scenes to bring newness. He can work in hearts, He can work in health, and He always works in love. He is the One working beside us, helping us gather up the bricks, the pieces of metal and stacking them in a pile. He is continually planting new seeds in our lives that may take a while to sprout up, but in the meantime He is nurturing those seeds. He is caring for them as a gardener with the best fertilizer on the market. He is splattering watercolors all over our canvas and then, when He is finished with His work of art will we fully be able to see the beauty from our brokenness. Soon the wildflowers of our lives will begin to strengthen and take over. We will realize that only God can take a dry, barren, devastated land and create such a vibrantly colorful landscape of our life…