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This summer flew by! It seems like every year, our summer break is shorter and shorter. It was just yesterday that we turned off the 6am alarm clock and celebrated freedom from oppression… I mean school. Now, here I sit one week back into the pattern of school bus routes, sports practices, and homework. What happened to my summer? No more swimming. No more afternoon picnics… this stinks!

Now with the ranting over, I do want to say that I love it that we’re about to enter into one of my favorite seasons here in North-East Ohio, the Fall. In just a couple weeks the trees will begin to change color. The air is going to grow colder again and you’ll literally be able to smell Football in the air. I love the Fall! I love the change in season. Summer is great, but to be honest, it can drag out a little too long for my taste.

Guess what? I’ll have a similar rant when the Fall turns into Winter. I hate it and I love it. And then another when Winter turns to Spring. I hate it and I love it.

Seasons. They come and they go… and most of the time, there’s nothing we can do about it. Now if you’re like me, you love the change of seasons. I think I like the change of seasons, because I just like change. I love it when something new or unexpected happens. I love variety. I love newness. I love options.

This is certainly true with the seasons of the year, and it’s just as true with seasons of life.

Preschool, high school, new job, new home… new haircut, doesn’t matter- bring it on.

I understand that you’re probably not like me though. So let’s quickly look at three things that happen when we enter into a new season of life.

When we start a new season we always have the potential of:

Losing Something

You don’t change from something familiar to something new without losing a little. You’re always going to miss something of the past. I’ve even seen this when I moved to ”something better”. It’s amazing how after a little bit of time, I can look back at the past and forget so much of what drove me crazy. All of a sudden, things weren’t that bad.

How beautiful are the feet…

Ankle Surgery

Ok, this is the first post I’ve written out of pain. I’m not speaking metaphorically. I’m not talking about my inner emotional pain or turmoil, or anything like like that. I’m talking about a “bite on the stick, cold sweat, rip the head off a stuffed animal” kind of pain. Thursday, I had surgery on my ankle. For those of you who really know me, you know that I have had weak ankles all my life.

I remember in high school, twisting my ankle after coming up a little too short in my pole-vaulting attempt at 14 feet. Ouch. I’ve twisted it on all-weather tracks, wrestling mats, in the woods, and even mowing the lawn. Just a few years ago I twisted it at work in Indiana causing it to swell to a rather abnormally huge size. I’ve twisted my ankle at least once a week for at least twenty years. And come to find out… I’ve broken my ankle twice and have torn all the exterior ligaments. Ouch, ouch!

So now here I sit on day three (said to be the most painful day of recovery) in my bed wishing the pain away. Do you know what the hardest thing about this is? A few days ago, my ankle felt fine! That’s right…fine! I didn’t have this surgery to stop immediate pain or to get me back on my feet again. Nope, this surgery was  to correct the reoccurring problem (sprains, twists, and breaks) at the root cause.