Written by:

Zerayn D.

“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.” Eskimo Proverb

There are seasons in life that weigh heavily on the soul. They arrive like tangled threads impossible to separate, like a jigsaw puzzle shattered into a hundred mismatched pieces, or a bucket of colored beads spilled and waiting to be sorted. What once felt ordered becomes unsettled. Some things slip out of place, others are lost entirely, and a few seem to vanish without explanation. The burden deepens when, in the middle of it all, you begin to believe you are facing it alone.

Days feel shorter, while nights stretch endlessly. Darkness hums with noise, and the sky blurs into an indistinct haze. Clouds linger for days on end. People rush past, busy and breathless, as if racing against time itself. Rain falls, and the cold seeps in. You pour yourself a hot drink, only to find it cold before the first sip. You prepare a meal with care, choosing the finest ingredients, yet it tastes strangely empty.

You pass flower shops and gardens, but blooms appear only in their appointed season. Some flowers cling to their stalks, dry and fading, ready to fall. The silence grows louder. No emails arrive. No messages appear. No phone calls come. And in that quiet, the weight of the season settles even deeper.

Yet through it all, you remain anchored in the Creator. Each day, you draw near, offering thanks for whatever goodness the day holds. You speak honestly, sharing your worries, naming your fears, and laying bare your heart. You weep through your frustrations and the countless “not yet” moments you revisit again and again. And when night comes, you rest in peace, trusting that He holds every unanswered prayer in His hands. One morning, you wake and ask God for guidance. It seems like an ordinary day.

In His time, He begins to move mountains. Just as He once commanded light to appear and it came into being, still faithful and constant since the beginning, He speaks again. Seasons shift. Your winter gives way to spring. Dark clouds are drawn aside, and sunlight returns to your days. With steady hands, He sets things in order, reminding you that not everything must rush forward. Even the rain has purpose. It cleanses the earth and smooths the ground.

Flowers bloom. Birds sing and take flight, spiraling and gliding with joy. Butterflies lift into the air, their wings revealing colors so distinct you notice each one anew.

Flavors return to life. Some dishes are sweet, others salty, savory, or spicy. Nothing tastes bland anymore, only different, rich in its own way. You call a friend and find yourself laughing over a foolish joke while grilling by the river. Your mother mentions Christmas, and you invite a new neighbor in for coffee. And in these small, ordinary moments, life feels full again.

You end each day with gratitude, thanking God for every trace of goodness you discovered along the way. You speak to Him openly, naming your worries, your fears, and the quiet emotions you carry. You praise Him for the small victories, and you entrust Him with the countless “not yet” moments you continue to work through, again and again. When night comes, you rest peacefully, confident that He holds them all in His hands.

This is how things begin to settle. Not all at once, but gently, deliberately. Each piece finds its place at the time appointed by the LORD.

I thank God that I am witnessing things fall into their rightful places. And I pray that, in time, you will see the same unfolding in your life.