I had a good chat with a friend recently. Our conversation veered to the topics of motherhood and career and dreams (as it usually does), and I confessed to her that I still harbour dreams to write my own novels and sell my own paintings.
But at the same time, I am being realistic about my current situation. And, even though it pains my soul to not charge after my dreams, I know I need to take things easy. Reminding myself that life, after all, is made up of seasons.
There are seasons to grow. Seasons to rest. Seasons to sacrifice. Seasons to pursue. Seasons to enjoy. Seasons to let go. Seasons to hold on.
This season is about my own dreams taking a back seat—and Alistair and my family first.
My friend in turn shared what her friend recently wrote about seasons in life, using the analogy of a sakura tree. And I loved it.
The essential message is this (and I hope it blesses you as much as it did me):
Even when something looks unproductive and unspectacular…
Unremarkable and unfruitful…
In fact, even when something looks almost dead to the outside world…
It doesn’t necessarily mean that nothing great is happening within.
Like the sakura tree.
Throughout the year, the tree looks dead.
But it’s not.
It’s merely biding its time. Resting. Growing. Preparing.
And when it’s ready, it will blossom.