More From Belinda Jo “B.J.” Mathias

Dear friends,

As our neck of the woods has been unusually hot, even for South Mississippi, I decided you all might enjoy my take on the glorious seasons in God’s wonderful design for creation. And goodness, there is such a life and faith lesson within its nature theme. For in each of our lives there are seasons when we feel nothing is blooming . . . nothing is quite as beautiful as it use to be. And then one day, like sprout bursting from the earth, joy returns and faith grows stronger and we bear good fruit.  May this blog find you so close to the heart of God that your hearts beat as One in Christ.

— B.J.

What Lies Beneath the Surface

Not long ago I was asked what my favorite season of the year is. And goodness, but I had a hard time deciding and had to ponder a bit because I really like all four seasons—each season has its own lovely attributes, even as each season has its own occasional unpleasantness. But I finally came to the conclusion that my most favorite season is spring. After winter, I am ready for spring . . . ready for blooming flowers, vibrant green grass, and leaves sprouting from the branches of the bare trees around our land and beyond to the country roads and byways.

As we await all that comes with spring, cool winter winds still blow and cold rains still fall day after day. However, as I have grown up a bit in the midst of it, I’ve come to appreciate the marvel of all the seasons in God’s glorious creation. Each season does its part in the greening up of this grand place I call home.

I spent many years grumbling as the beauty of fall turned into the dark, dismal late winter; I could find little joy in that season at all. But then I began to dig a little deeper (literally) to life beneath the soil—so much so that now I feel much less dismayed as the grass withers and the trees lose their leaves. For I have come to realize that what follows is an absolutely amazing miracle of God. For bit by bit, leaf by leaf, flower by flower, plants wilt and fall, seeping down into the cool, damp earth of autumn and winter. And with foot traffic, dog traffic, four-wheelers, and tractors, they are soon sufficiently compacted. What happens between then and spring proceeds relatively unnoticed. The soil absorbs what appears to be refuse and breaks it up, causing decay and adjusting its chemistry a bit. The debris rests in the earth through winter, sometimes even freezing deeply into the soil. Then at last, as spring draws nigh, that which has perished and fallen to the earth becomes the stuff of life . . . in the blink of an eye, green grass sprouts, covering rolling hills, pasture land, and roadsides; wildflowers flourish; the roots of trees tap out the richness of the soil, nourished by the summer before and lots of raindrops. All at once, life begins anew . . . such is spring.

And you know what, my friends? I cannot help but find hope in the lessons learned from the seasons. One would not thrive without the other; each plays its very own part in the world around us. And in like fashion, our life’s journey is a pattern in seasons—seasons of growth and flourishing with hope and expectation sometimes follow seasons fraught with cold chills, brown grass, bare tree branches, and nary a bloom in sight. Sometimes we long and hope for spring even though it seems it will never come.

But then, in early spring, the sun bursts through the heavy clouds, casting radiant beams of light across the bare earth and revealing the first sprout of green that simply refuses to be held back any longer. That persistent little bloom pressing up, even through a blanket of snow, gives us pause and hope for a new day—a sunny day in spring—on a wing and a prayer. May it be so with you all.

P.S. By the way, I love wildflowers. Whoever decided to call them invasive or weeds may have their reasons, but they are my favorite because they just arrive on their own and make the world prettier with no need for fuss or fertilizer. Some of the prettiest arrays of flowers you’d ever want to see can be found in abundance right here in our neck of the woods! Awesome!