T.S. Eliot’s poetic line, “April is the cruellest month,” always seemed a cruel statement to me. In my family, April is a celebratory time. It is September which is the cruelest. It is autumn which mixes “memory and desire.”
Almost all the great losses of my life all begin in autumn, though I have lost in the winter, spring, and summer. Perhaps it is the dying fields and fading light which enhances sorrow experienced in autumn.
Mercifully, the work of the Holy Spirit and the passage of time work together to bring perspective and healing. We can once again welcome any season with undying hope. On the anniversaries of loss, we can praise God for His infinite wisdom and mercy.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland (Isaiah 43:19).
Just as we cannot see the radiant blue above unstable, stormy skies, we cannot always see what God is doing through sorrow, and even death. Friend, He is working to bring about new life.
There’s no need to give one month, one season, or one experience so much power. It is better to have the outlook Jordan Baker had in the Great Gatsby: Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.
Life Out Here 