What Season Are You In?
“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.”
— Ecclesiastes 3:1 (KJV)
There are seasons when life feels full and generous, when doors open, family grows, prayers seem to move quickly, and gratitude comes easy. Then there are seasons when the leaves begin to fall. Health changes. Grief arrives. A loved one enters the hospital. The phone rings with news that shifts the whole day. One minute we are celebrating birthdays and babies, and the next we are carrying somebody else’s pain along with our own. That tension sat at the center of this month’s Men’s Prayer Call.
The question placed before us was simple: What season are you in? Not what season you wish you were in. Not what season somebody else seems to be enjoying. Not the season you keep pretending you are still in because you do not want to admit that things have changed. The question is what season has God allowed you to stand in right now, and what is He asking of you while you are there?
When the Leaves Start Falling
Autumn gives us a picture of what spiritual transition can look like. Trees begin to release what they once held. Leaves fall. Branches are exposed. What looked full suddenly looks bare. In our own lives, those seasons can feel like loss, but sometimes they are preparation. There are times when God is cutting back habits, expectations, relationships, pride, distractions, or even plans that cannot go with us into the next season.
Jesus said, “Every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit” (John 15:2, KJV). That verse sounds beautiful until we remember that pruning involves a blade. Sometimes spiritual growth requires sacrifice. Sometimes it requires fasting, discipline, rest, forgiveness, or the courage to admit that the version of us that survived the last season is not necessarily the man God intends to carry into the next one.
That is why discernment matters. If we do not understand seasons, we can mistake pruning for punishment. We can look at what is falling away and assume everything is dying, when God may actually be preparing us for something that requires less weight and deeper roots.
Winter Is Real
Then comes winter, and winter does not care how strong we think we are. Winter is the season when the answers seem slower, the nights feel longer, and the burdens start stacking up. This month’s call carried that kind of weight. Family members were lifted in prayer for liver cancer, seizures, high blood pressure, kidney disease, diabetes, back problems, hospitalization, inadequate care, and the exhaustion that comes with long-term caregiving. There was also grief for families mourning the loss of sons and loved ones in devastating circumstances.
There are no clever church phrases that make those things light. Sometimes winter is simply cold. Men know this, even when we do not always say it. We keep working. We make the calls. We handle the logistics. We check on everybody else. We tell people, “I’m good,” because explaining what is really happening feels like one more responsibility we do not have the strength to carry.
That is exactly why spaces like the Men’s Prayer Call matter. A man needs somewhere he does not have to perform. Somewhere he can say, “My family needs prayer.” Somewhere he can admit, “I am tired.” Somewhere he can bring the thing he cannot fix. Men are often trained to solve, repair, provide, and protect, but every man eventually meets something his hands cannot force into submission. Cancer does not care how capable you are. Grief does not care how respected you are. Death does not care what title you hold. There are seasons when all a man can do is bring the burden to God.
Prayer in the Winter
Prayer becomes different in those seasons. It is no longer an accessory to life. It becomes survival. Prayer is where we ask for strength when strength is running low. It is where we ask for healing when medicine has limits. It is where we ask for peace when the situation itself has not changed. It is where we ask God for the solution we cannot see and the grace to keep standing while we wait.
This month’s call opened with that kind of expectation. There was prayer for guidance, anointing, protection from distraction, open hearts, miracles, healing, and solutions. There was a belief that God still hears, still answers, and still knows how to make wrong things right. That kind of faith does not deny the reality of winter. It simply refuses to believe winter is the whole story.
Psalm 30:5 reminds us that “weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning” (KJV). Morning does not pretend the night never happened. Spring does not erase winter. Resurrection does not deny the grave. It proves the grave did not have the final word.
Gratitude and Grief Can Sit Together
One of the most powerful things about this call was that gratitude and grief were both present. Keith is preparing to celebrate his 66th birthday. His sons and grandson have recently celebrated birthdays, and a tenth grandchild is on the way. That is life announcing itself. At the same time, illness and loss are moving through the family. That is life too.
Maturity is learning that we do not have to choose between gratitude and grief. We can thank God for another year of life while praying beside a hospital bed. We can celebrate a coming baby while mourning somebody else’s child. We can testify that God has been good and still admit that something hurts deeply. Faith is large enough to hold both.
Sometimes gratitude actually becomes clearer when grief has reminded us how fragile life is. Another birthday stops being “just another year.” It becomes evidence of grace. A grandchild stops being merely another addition to the family. That child becomes another branch on a family tree that has somehow kept growing through storms, funerals, sickness, joy, disappointment, and answered prayer.
Knowing the Season Without Losing God
The danger is letting the season define God for us. A difficult season does not mean God has abandoned us. A prosperous season does not mean we have graduated from needing Him. Spring requires God. Summer requires God. Autumn requires God. Winter definitely requires God.
The season changes. God does not.
That is why the call emphasized not only prayer, but brotherhood. Men were reminded that this is a safe space to share praise reports, testimonies, and prayer requests without judgment. Confidentiality matters because vulnerability requires trust. If a man finally opens his mouth about what is happening in his family, his body, his mind, or his home, that burden should be handled with care.
We need men to keep speaking. We need men to keep praying. We need men to keep carrying one another when a season gets too heavy to carry alone.
The Charge
So this month, ask yourself honestly: What season am I in? If it is a season of growth, grow. If it is a season of work, be faithful. If it is a season of pruning, release what God is cutting away. If it is winter, do not mistake the cold for abandonment. Hold on.
Do not dig up what God told you to plant just because nothing has broken the surface yet. Do not assume silence means God has left. Do not assume pruning means punishment.
Do not assume a hard season means the story is over. And do not carry winter by yourself.
Bring your brothers in. Bring your family in. Most importantly, bring God in.
No Comments