Maybe it’s because I was born in the month of September, but the start of fall has always caused me to exhale. My body seems to settle and sing, as if to say, “Yes, you are home here.” I belong here in the beginning of changing colors and the invitation to wear colors that complement my earthy skin tone. I’ve always loved how the pressing heat of Alabama humidity gives way to a cozy warmth in the day and crisp nights under twinkling stars. Songs seem easy to sing in those moments of contentedness and belonging.
Yet, this season has arrived with an unexpectedness that hasn’t stirred those same feelings within me. After spending the last six years in the temperate, and often arctic, weather of Iceland, my family has transitioned to the States for an extended period of time. Although it was hard to leave, I imagined that my arrival would be easier. But each week here seems to point to a realization that I still can’t quite comprehend.
It doesn’t feel quite like home anymore. I gaze at the same multihued trees, the same roads, eating familiar food in the same city, but it’s not the same because, in the process of being away, I’ve changed.
We know it’s inevitable for seasons to shift, but despite the preparation, it’s hard to comprehend all the layers of emotion that go into transitions. I think that can be said for various circumstances we go through. And the heaviness can make it hard to release a sound beyond tears, much less an actual song. But as I’ve clung to God in these moments and read the stories of women who held on to him in hard moments of their own, I’ve been fascinated by their actions in the face of, yes, victories but also in many uncertainties.
- Miriam: After the victory at the Red Sea and before the wilderness Israel was about to enter, Miriam unpacked her tambourine and led the women in song (Exodus 15:20–21).
- Deborah: Spurred on by victory in battle and the fierceness of a tent-dwelling woman who understood her significance to the fight, Deborah joined with Barak in singing out to the Lord (Judges 5:1–31).
- Hannah: Rejoicing in the Lord’s answered prayer and confirming her commitment to surrender to that answer, Hannah sang out to the Lord after delivering her weaned son to Eli (1 Samuel 2:1–10).
- Mary: After receiving the news about her assignment and experiencing her cousin Elizabeth’s reaction to the growing baby in her womb, Mary released her song to the Lord, despite the uncertainties and obstacles that were to come (Luke 1:46–55).
They sang songs before, within, and after significant seasons of transition. They captured these moments in songs that reverberated throughout generations. They did so, not because they handled everything perfectly or because the circumstances were just right. These women sang out songs in shifting seasons because they ultimately clung to the faithfulness and goodness of God. Our God who remains these things and more and sings over us too (Zephaniah 3:17). Our seasons of questions, uncertainty, and wilderness-wandering do not exempt us from the ability to release words from our lips or praise from our breath.
Therefore, behold, I will allure her,
Will bring her into the wilderness,
And speak comfort to her.
I will give her her vineyards from there,
And the Valley of Achor as a door of hope;
She shall sing there,
As in the days of her youth,
As in the day when she came up from the land of Egypt.
We may not understand what we’re going through or know for sure what the outcome will be, but right here in this place, we can still sing. In doing so, we echo the songs of ages, melodies of the home we do and will one day fully belong to. There are songs being formed in these moments that will overflow into testimonies that point others to the incomparable glory of God.
As you meditate on the songs of the women listed above, what song or story resonates with you the most? What would God have to say about your season through theirs?
