I came across some photos from last summer when everything was lush and green and flowering. It was quite a contrast to the view out my window today.

As I handled some outside chores this afternoon, I couldn’t help but reflect on the difference in our yard with just a few months’ passing. It’s not just missing the greening of the grass and fully-leafed trees. It’s the undergrowth that has faded into sticks and flattened weeds. It’s the brown stalks on the hydrangea and the piles of leaves swirling across the yard. And while I heard birdsong and woodpeckers, there were no bees or hummingbirds buzzing by.

The yard was mostly quiet. Waiting. Holding space as the ground rests.

I’m not someone who tends towards quiet introspection naturally. It’s not the way I’m wired. It’s not how I usually get inspiration or energy. This year, things are different. My “grief wagon” is a bit heavy. I need to rest more as I haul it around. I have had to step back from people and activity. It’s very un-Deb-like. And it’s OK.

Michael Kelly Blanchard in his poem “Glimpses of God” writes about the ways that the Divine shows up in the seasons of life. He talked about seeing Glimpses of God in “the dying of things.” In these moments of quiet, of dying off, I see God at work in the season of resting.

It has been an unspeakably difficult year. The seasons are gently moving from one to the next, offering me a bit of encouragement that change will come, growth will happen, and I will find myself find myself in a season of flourishing again. It will take a while. But it will come.

In my resting season, I’m trying to pay attention to what God is doing. I don’t exactly know what the new growth will be, but I trust the One who cares for me and guides me, faithfully and gently.

The Psalmist wrote: Let those who are wise pay attention to these things and consider the steadfast love of the Lord. (Psalm 107:43 NRSV)

Amen. Blessed be.