We weren’t prepared. None of us.
No one expected winter at the beginning of October, at least not six to eight inches of snow. Two days before the temperature had hit close to eighty degrees. The trees were busy with their fall celebration, painting the world with oranges and yellows and reds. Although we all knew winter was coming, nature felt extraordinarily alive — a final flourish to a glorious summer.
Then, on October 9th, the temperature dropped more than forty degrees. And a light Monday rain turned into a thick and heavy snow. For hours, nature blanketed Colorado in white, refusing to relent. Layer after layer of heavy, wet snow piled up on streets and grass, driveways and trees. Still covered in orange, yellow, and red leaves, tree branches bowed, like a mother caught by unexpected mourning, unable to lift her head.
When I woke that morning to a world of white, my first thought was for our trees. I love a good snow, and I typically create quite a celebration of it. But this time I knew the trees weren’t prepared for it. They didn’t have enough time to shed their summer. As a child isn’t yet ready to bear the weight of adulthood, they couldn’t carry the responsibility of snow. Instead, with leaves holding each flake, the branches bowed with the strain. I feared they would break.
And that’s precisely what happened. While my husband and children finished their breakfast, a loud crash shook them from their cereal. With a glance out the back windows, they saw the cause of the crash:
One of the largest branches of our favorite purple ash tree had finally succumbed to the weight of the snow.
It lay sprawled across our blue spruce and back yard, yellow and red leaves littering the white floor, severed from its source of life.
Within a day or two, the snow melted and the temperatures turned summer-like. Trees once again flaunted their colors, although with far fewer leaves and flair than before. Daily, I went into our backyard to mourn our favorite tree. I couldn’t help myself. It no longer provided a complete canopy of shade as it did the week before. Lacking its prior symmetry, it appeared deformed, misshapen. Worse, I feared disease where the broken branch had left the tree exposed. Time would reveal whether or not it would survive.
I’ve thought a lot about that tree over the past month. It’s not as if it didn’t know what to do with snow. It’s endured dozens of winters and countless snowstorms.
The problem wasn’t the storm or the temperature — it was the timing.
I’ve never been much good at waiting. When I want something, I want it sooner than later. That book I want to write or project I want to complete? I want it to be finished now and flawless the first time. My skills as a leader and mentor? I expect them to be developed and exceptional immediately, without struggle and growth and time. I want my children to be mature and responsible and full of faith today and my marriage to be exactly what God designed it to be right now.
In short, I want to skip over the uncomfortable process and get to the satisfying results.
But I too easily forget: The struggle now is part of the glory later.
To shortcut the first is to diminish the second. And to skip over the waiting means to risk crashing. Sometimes that “one thing” we’re desperate for would be better served by a longer fall, a season of time that would allow space and maturity and growth. Many times we must shed some leaves today before we’ll have the strength to bear the weight of tomorrow. Thus the need for seasons and the need for savoring each one before rushing off to the next.
But I trust in you, LORD;
I say, ‘You are my God.’
My times are in your hands . . .
Psalm 31:14-15a (NIV)
No, I don’t like waiting much. I want to rush ahead to the happy ending, where the scenery is spectacular and the celebration happens. Each day while I wait, I’m tempted to fast-forward the process, strong-arm results, manipulate and control and make something happen.
But an unfolding is often more beautiful than a forcing. Hard, yes, but worthy.
Whatever it is you’re waiting for, perhaps waiting isn’t as unproductive as it seems. At times, what happens during the fall is precisely what needs to happen to get us through the winter and to the spring.
Trust Him, friend. Trust He knows the desire of your heart and what needs to happen for the best of you and those you love.
He’s a master of the process. Don’t run and rush. Don’t attempt to bypass one season to move more quickly to the next.
Instead, walk it out. Savor the oranges and yellows and reds. Enjoy the slow fall of leaves and the sweet savoring of what is yet to come, what you can’t yet imagine.
Allow the struggle to be your teacher.
Trust the pain to be a grace.
Embrace the wait, slow as it may be, and trust that the One who paints the leaves and sends the snow knows precisely how to turn your waiting into a rewarding spring.
Leave a Comment
Ruth Mills says
SO TRUE! Great reminder of the process Jesus endured on the cross ~talk about hard!~ to glorify God & save me/us. Thank you for sharing. Helps spur me to greater gratitude & worship on this Lord’s day.
Michele Cushatt says
Yes, the cross. The waiting and trusting for a greater Glory.
Dova says
Thank you for this reading! It has touched me more than you know and I needed it today more than ever! I recently was in a wreck and my whole life is changed as well as the ones around me. Husband and children. I have under gone 2 Kidney surgeries and waiting on another while living with a tube out of my right kidney and it also took all my front top and bottom teeth that I can’t fix until my kidney is good. The battlefields I have been fighting has opened my eyes to what is right in front of me. Their importance and every detail the little moments hold within. I have not found a new normal as I feel myself not wanting to go their. I miss the way things were but I too should know whatever I’m going although I may want to break like the tree, I should also know he will bring me out. He’s preparing the season before me and for you!
Thank you
Gail says
Praying for you, Dora.
Beth Williams says
Dova,
Asking God to send His healing touch to your body. May the needed surgery happen soon so other things can be fixed. In the waiting I pray you feel His presence & allow Him to work in you. May you be more aware of the blessings & goodness of God.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (Hugs from Watauga TN)
Blessings 🙂
Michele Cushatt says
Oh, Dova, it is so difficult to come to terms with a body that isn’t what it once was, that doesn’t work as it once did. I get it. My heart is with you, my friend. It’s okay to grieve what’s been lost while simultaneously searching for the gift in what is. They can co-exist. Press on, Sister. So much love for you.
Joy Weir says
I, too, am a mom of children from hard places. Yes, waiting can be so hard; the unknowns of the final results, situations where your “hands are tied”, people in your life that do more harm than good, etc. But God tells us to cast our care on Him, stand still and see His salvation; and He always come through in His time and in His way. Thank you for this encouragement!
Michele Cushatt says
We’ll said, Joy. Cling to Him rather than our ability to control. So difficult to do, but necessary for freedom and peace.
Madeline says
A great message for me and so timely. I am part of a hiking group of older folks here in Colorado. We begin in May, weather permitting, and continue until late October. I love it and look forward to the Thursday outings. Then 3 weeks ago, I broke a rib, followed by a dislocated thumb a week later trying to be careful of my rib. No hiking for 4-6 weeks, maybe, and then only gentle hikes so as not to put pressure on the rib. And I can start short walks on a flat path this week. After a year and a half of distancing because of the pandemic, I am once again waiting. But I want to be physically healed now. I want to be able to drive without discomfort. I want to be able to wear pants that zipper and button. I don’t want my daughter coming by to change my sheets or push the shopping cart for me. And yet, in this time of waiting to heal my body, I am experiencing a special time with my daughter and accepting the grace of God through her and helpful neighbors. I also have more time to sit on my patio to read, watch the animals and just be. So in my struggle, I can try to find the grace.
Beth Williams says
Madeline,
God is always at work in your waiting. He makes something good out of ashes. Savor this time with your daughter. Enjoy her company & help. She is the blessing you need now.
Asking God to send His healing hand to your body. Take life one day at a time enjoying every little thing. Allow God to do a work in you while you heal up. Praying for a quick recovery & many blessings ahead.
Blessings 🙂
Michele Cushatt says
Ahhh, a fellow hiking lover! Thank you for sharing your story here, Madeline. I can imagine the frustration at not being able to do what you love to do. May our Healer knit your rib and thumb and everything back together, completely and quickly. And may His creation come to find to you, exactly where you are. Xoxox
NancyM says
What a perfectly timed (for me) post… thank you 🙂
Michele Cushatt says
I’m so glad, Nancy.
arian says
“But an unfolding is often more beautiful than a forcing.” ooooh. i LOVE this! It reminds me of this verse – Psalm 119:130 (niv)
“The unfolding of your words gives light.” I’m not sure what it is about the word “unfolding” (when unrelated to clothes), but i just love the imagery of it. in my mind it i picture it as a delicate, careful, caring, slow opening of something. however, i enjoy waiting as much as you do, but have also learned its worth it even if it is sooo hard! 🙂
have a lovely Sunday!
Michele Cushatt says
Yes, that phrase hit me again today, too. I needed to be reminded of my own words! And Psalm 119:130. Thanks, Arian!
Beth Williams says
Michele,
This post reminds me of the Butterfly story. A man finds a cocoon of a butterfly. He watches for hours as the caterpillar struggled to force its body through a hole. Then suddenly it stops. Man wanting to help snips off the remainders of cocoon. The poor butterfly was never able to fly though. What the man didn’t understand was the struggle was nature’s way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom. So it is with humans. Our struggles are just what we need in life. Without obstacles in our lives we wouldn’t be as strong as we are.
I often learn that our trials & tribulations are what we need to bring us back to God. They force us to depend on Him more. He does a great work in us during those times. For me my faith & trust muscles were grown immensely.
Blessings 🙂
Karen Knowles says
Michele, thank you for the encouragement today. My husband and I are seniors who have covid and although it’s been a bit rough, I thank God it hasn’t been as bad as it could be. The Lord has truly sustained us. Not through it yet, but hopefully soon.
Goldfinch says
I am a week of a husband in hard places. He lost his license several months ago to a DUI charge. 30 years ago he got one too. Because it is his 2nd offense, they sent him for an assesment at a recovery center. He must go 3 times a week, for 3 hours each night after working all day. Please pray for us, I don’t know if this pressure will be too much for him/us. Please pray for us that we can overcome these circumstances. God is on the throne, always working on our behalf. He finds away when thier seems to be no way. The devotion appeared in my email this morning. There are no coincidences. God loves us and is in control. I just need prayers for strength, perseverance and tha God will provide what we need and heal my husband.
Stephanie says
Needed this today. Thank you, Michelle ❤️
Marian Frizzell says
“The struggle now is part of the glory later.” Yes! Thank you so much for this—holding on to these words as we pray for Christ’s return.
Paula says
I really connected with this writing. I have difficulty waiting as well.
Maxine Diffey says
Thank you – I needed to hear that over an issue that I have been wanting to rush, and I am
s-l-o-w-l-y learning to make my adoration of, and reliance on, God my priority before anything else.
Blessings
Maxine
Jacqueline says
Thank you. I think when we struggle to fix life we forget the importance of this. Thank you.
Talyssia Boyd says
I am definitely in a season of waiting and I agree that patience is definitely hard during this time but I keep going back to the thought of God developing me in this season. As hard as it is, I know that it’s worth it in the end. In the meantime, I continue to lean into the strength of Christ.