The Purpose of Every Season

I'm going through a transition right now that's requiring me to adapt to an entirely new pace of life. As I've reflected on where I am today, I've also been looking back at previous seasons and realizing just how much I've changed.

There was a time when I lived at a relentless pace. I was driven by my work, my goals, and everything I thought I needed to accomplish. At the time, I believed that being driven was a good thing. After all, our culture tends to celebrate busyness as though it's a badge of honor.

I don't see it that way anymore.

God has given us the ability to govern the things He's entrusted to us—not to be governed by them.

When I entered a wilderness season in 2020, everything slowed down. For many of us, it did. At first, I resisted it. I didn't want to rest because resting felt unproductive. It took me a long time to embrace that slower rhythm.

Eventually something changed.

I began to appreciate the breathing room. I found space to learn, to reflect, to dream with God, and to discover things about Him—and about myself—that I never would have noticed if life had continued at its previous pace.

Now I'm entering another transition.

This season is asking me to pick the pace back up. There isn't as much room for all the extra projects and interests I had time to explore before. Rather than resisting it, I'm learning that this season requires something different from me.

It has reminded me how important it is to recognize the season we're living in.

When we understand our season, we can steward it well. When we don't, we often become frustrated because life isn't unfolding according to our expectations. Sometimes we're longing for the next season before we've finished this one. Other times we're trying to recreate a season that's already passed. We can even find ourselves spending tremendous energy on things God isn't asking us to carry.

Every season has a purpose.

One thing I've noticed is that many conversations about "the seasons of life" are based on our experience of spring, summer, fall, and winter where we live. But Scripture was written in Israel and the surrounding regions of the Middle East, where the rhythm of the seasons is very different.

Once you begin looking at Scripture through that lens, so many passages come alive.

The Bible is filled with imagery of vineyards, olive trees, wheat fields, shepherds, rainfall, drought, sowing, pruning, and harvest. These weren't simply poetic illustrations—they reflected the rhythms of everyday life. Understanding those rhythms gives greater depth to the spiritual metaphors God uses throughout Scripture.

Let's walk through those seasons together.

Fall: A Season of Preparation

When we think of fall in the United States, we usually picture colorful leaves falling from the trees.

In Israel, however, fall looks very different. The grape and fig harvests have just ended, while olives and pomegranates are still being gathered. After months of dry summer heat, the early rains begin to soften the hardened ground. Farmers can finally plow the fields and sow wheat and barley for the coming year. It's also the season for pruning. Fruit trees and grapevines are cut back so they can become even more fruitful in the year ahead.

Spiritually, this often represents a season of preparation. Perhaps you've come through a wilderness season and God is beginning to plant fresh vision in your heart. New ideas are emerging. Doors are beginning to open. At the same time, you may be discovering what cannot come into the next season with you.

Old habits.

False beliefs.

Unhealthy relationships.

Activities that once served a purpose but now drain your energy.

Pruning can be painful because we're letting go of things we've become attached to. But a gardener never prunes to harm the tree. He prunes to increase its fruitfulness. The same is true for us. Sometimes our focus narrows so our energy can be invested where it will bear the greatest fruit.

The challenge in this season is resisting the temptation to cling to what we're called to leave behind.

Winter: A Season of Growth

Winter in Israel is surprisingly alive. It's the rainy season. The land that looked dry and barren only months earlier suddenly bursts into life. Hillsides become green, streams begin flowing, and even the desert changes as water rushes through the wadis—the dry valleys that fill with rainwater flowing down from the mountains. Life begins to flourish everywhere.

This often mirrors seasons of rapid spiritual growth. God begins expanding our capacity. New opportunities appear. Our responsibilities increase. The things He planted during the previous season begin developing quickly. It can be exciting. It can also be stretching.

Growth requires energy, focus, and perseverance. It's often during these seasons that insecurity surfaces. We wonder whether we're capable of carrying what God is asking us to steward. Imposter syndrome can tempt us to shrink back just when we're being invited to move forward. Yet if God has called us into the season, He will also provide what we need to walk through it.

Spring: A Season of Flourishing

Spring in Israel is breathtaking. The hillsides are covered with wildflowers. Trees are full of foliage. Birds build nests among the branches. Even parts of the desert display signs of life. Wheat and barley reach maturity and are ready for harvest. Everything speaks of abundance.

There are seasons in our lives that feel like this too. The work we've invested begins producing visible fruit. We experience favor. Doors open. Our lives become a source of encouragement and blessing to others because we've received more than enough to share. But even flourishing has its own temptation. It's easy to assume we've arrived because of our own wisdom, discipline, or effort.

Yet every harvest points back to the Gardener. God has been cultivating the fruit all along. Our role has simply been to cooperate with His work. Humility keeps us rooted in the One who produced the growth in the first place.

Summer: A Season of the Wilderness

Summer in Israel is long, hot, and dry. The rains stop. The flowers wither. Much of the landscape becomes barren. The water collected during the rainy season in wells and cisterns must sustain people until the early rains return months later. Yet even in the intense heat, certain fruits continue ripening. That detail has always stood out to me. Some fruit only develops because of the heat.

Our wilderness seasons often feel much the same. Resources seem limited. Opportunities diminish. Things we've depended on begin disappearing. We become acutely aware of our need for God's daily provision. These seasons can feel long. They can feel lonely. They can tempt us to wonder whether God has forgotten us.

But wilderness seasons aren't wasted seasons. They deepen our dependence on Him. They expose what we've been trusting. They teach us to rest in His provision rather than our own strength. And while much around us may appear dry, God is quietly producing fruit within us that could never have developed any other way. The temptation in the wilderness is discouragement.

We may blame God, others, or ourselves. We may become weary from waiting. Yet I'm reminded of Galatians 6:9:

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."

The harvest may not come when we expect it. But it will come.

Which Season Are You In?

As I continue navigating my own transition, I'm reminded that every season has its own pace, its own purpose, and its own invitation. None of them are permanent. None of them are meaningless. Each one prepares us for what comes next.

What season are you in? Can you recognize the transition God is leading you through?

Want to dive deeper?

I explore these biblical seasons in much greater detail in this episode ofNavigating the Wilderness. If you enjoy hearing these ideas unpacked conversationally, I'd love for you to watch or listen.