I love the sound of flocks of geese flying over my rooftop in the early morning. If I’m not running late (admittedly a rare occasion), I step out on the porch to watch them fly overhead in their strategic but lovely V formation. Some days there are a dozen. Some days there are as many as 60. Regardless, the sight and sound is a definite indicator of this season.

As the geese continue out of sight, I am content with this season of chillier air, later sunrises, and earlier sunsets. That is, I am content in the moment. Because as soon as I can’t see or hear them any longer, I begin to dwell on the fact that the Southern migration of these birds means winter will be upon us. Before we know it. Before I am ready.

I like snow. I enjoy outdoor winter activities. And I find pleasure in baking on a chilly winter morning to warm the house and the tummy. But I can’t have those things without also facing a lack of light, a wearier mind set, and a constant wishing for the warmth of the sun to come around again. So while I love the honking of the geese, the sound also signals change that is coming, ready or not.

It makes me restless, this coming of a season for which I am never quite mentally prepared, and I don’t know what to do with myself. Combine that with a season of personal difficulty and there is a perfect recipe for me to fall apart–but only a little bit because I can’t stand to not be in some measure of control.

And my need for control is what makes the coming of winter a struggle. Because I’m fighting a battle I can’t win. I can’t control the weather, the daylight, the temperature, or the timing of answered prayer. So tonight I took my restlessness to my knees and told the One I Love that I just don’t know what to do.

And because He is always good, always merciful, and always loves us, he gently reminded me:

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 KJV

So, while there are things about this season that I don’t like very much, none of it is permanent. Not the weather, and not the personal circumstances.

I can stop being restless.