It’s only mid-November, but everywhere I look, the Christmas season has already begun. Costco had their holiday section out even before the official start of fall. I suppose it’s no surprise. People are tired of their Halloween decorations, which went up basically as soon as one leaf turned yellow, and are ready to move on to the next exciting thing.
Many of us find “living in our season” hard, not just in the world of decorating. I spent middle school pining for high school—the allure of proms, a car, and a braces-less face. But high school still meant limited freedom, and the glory days of college where I could stay up late, sleep in, and answer to no one (except my RA) awaited. College, of course, meant studying and staying on a schedule, but when I graduated, I would be able to travel the world and own a work-to-evening outfit like I had seen on What Not to Wear. The cycle continued: longing for a husband, desiring children, awaiting birthing said children, wishing they would just sleep through the night, counting down each milestone they would hit. I was so focused on what would come next that I would often miss out on what was in front of me.
We are so often living in the next season rather than the one we are in now, despite the modern parlance reminding us to “live in your season.” We are always looking forward to the ease of the life that awaits us at the next turn.
“Finding time with my husband is so tough! When bedtime comes, I am just ready to sleep. Once the kids are sleeping better, we will get our time together back.”
“I just need the kids on a more consistent schedule. Then, I’ll be able to exercise again.”
“I can’t volunteer for the parish fair. It’s just not my season.”
“My friends are organizing a late girls night, but I am just so exhausted as a mom of young kids. I have to prioritize sleep right now.”
“I used to be so good at waking up early to pray, but [insert one of my kid’s names here] has been getting up a lot at night. I will get back into it once this passes.”
No judgment, y’all. These are all words that have come out of my mouth.
In my early years of motherhood, exhaustion and busyness were an ingrained part of my life, and I often looked with rose-colored glasses at the next season. With more sleep and older children with fewer needs, I thought, certainly I would prioritize date nights with my husband and could handle late hangouts with friends! But here I am, nine years later and still having babies. Sleep is still elusive, life has never felt busier, and late nights mean big time payback in the morning. If I had indefinitely continued “living in my season” by neglecting practices and people that are important to me, I could now have a deteriorating marriage, a waning spiritual life, a perennial dissatisfaction with my physical health, and a lack of healthy friendships.
What I have had to accept is that there are challenges in every season. Even with bigger kids, their needs are bigger: Activities pull us in different directions, and they are working through more robust emotional challenges. Sometimes lack of sleep is the culprit for my difficulties, but other times it’s a full schedule, sick children, pregnancy/newborn life, my husband’s busyness at work, or supporting friends who are suffering. And in a few years, as I exit a season of caring for little kids, I may be called to care for aging parents or navigate job loss or suffer through a prolonged illness. I have not found any season to be conducive to making time to pray, to working out regularly, to staying up late with friends or my husband, or signing up for Meal Trains. Generally, what changes is my motivation to make sacrifices to make those things happen.
Of course—of course—we are finite human beings with limited physical and emotional capacity. Of course—of course—we can’t say yes to everything, especially if we are not prioritizing our primary vocations. We have to be prudent in not taking on more than is good for us, and we have to discern as best as we can before accepting new commitments, especially at the expense of our family or our health and sanity. However, we do have to recognize that certain realms have to be priorities. While one person may value weekly therapy and another a weekly spin class, for example, Catholics are obligated to make sacrifices for God and for others. Jesus said, “When you pray,” “when you fast,” and “when you give alms”—not if—because facets of our lives have to be non-negotiables. I am challenging myself to accept that I will need to sacrifice my time (and sleep!) if I want to have a deep spiritual life, a healthy marriage, a loving relationship with my children, a supportive group of friends, the physical health I desire, active participation in the Church, and the confidence that I am serving others as best as I can.
And of course, in every season, there will be moments that I have to prioritize rest and alone time. And when I do, I will remind myself I am “living in my season,” not as an excuse but because I know those are the words God speaks in grace and love to me, reminding me that the season of eternity—of boundless energy, rest, and time with Him—awaits.
