May can bring very different seasons depending on where you live. Here in the Southern Hemisphere, in Australia, it means crisp air, falling leaves, and getting ready for a cozy winter. In the Northern Hemisphere, however, May bursts with blossoms, bees, and the sweet scent of new life.
I’ve always loved autumn — the colours, the stillness, the reflective feeling in the air. Spring, while beautiful, brings me sneezing fits and hay fever, so let’s just say it’s not my personal favourite! Yet despite their differences, autumn and spring are deeply connected. Like two sides of the same coin, both are tied to growth and transformation.
During autumn, we watch the trees gracefully let go of their leaves. It’s a beautiful surrender — one that makes room for new life to come in spring. For us, that can look like letting go of habits, fears, or even old versions of ourselves. It’s not easy; we become attached to what we’re used to. But Ecclesiastes 3:1–2 reminds us, “There is a time for everything… a time to plant and a time to uproot.”
In spring, we see the rewards of that letting go — renewal, blooming, a very fresh start. But growth doesn’t come easily. It requires vulnerability, patience, and trust. Even if we can’t see spring during the long days of autumn or winter, we trust that it will come. God promises this in Isaiah 43:19: “See, I am doing a new thing… do you not perceive it?”
Autumn feels like a season of reflection, while spring feels like living out what we’ve learned through growth. I love that these seasons follow Easter — a time when we reflect deeply on sacrifice, grace, and resurrection. For me, Easter is always a point of pause and learning, and May is where that learning begins to unfold.
This year, May also marks one year since I received a cancer diagnosis. In many ways, I believe I’ve grown more in this past year than in the 45 years before it. Spiritual growth, like physical growth, is often painful. It stretches us in directions we never would have chosen. One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned is this: a cancer diagnosis does not mean you must get ready to die.
Oddly enough, I felt stronger than ever. I was afraid of hearing those words — “It’s cancer. I’m sorry.” — but from the very beginning, I felt Jesus holding my hand. I was strong, calm, even joyful. That may not have been what those around me expected or felt, but I had a deep, supernatural peace. Many people prayed for me — and to each one, I will be forever grateful. I am now cancer-free and stronger than I was a year ago.
I’ve learned that fearing something doesn’t stop it from happening — it only stops you from fully living. Even on the hardest days, God is there, ready to carry you and make you stronger.
We can’t control what will happen next. But growth — whether spiritual, emotional, or physical — exposes our weak spots and invites us to let go. In my case, it exposed how fear was holding me back in life. Yet even in that exposure, God was gently holding my hand. Whether you’re in a season of shedding or sprouting, that is the one thing you can be sure of — God is with you.
So as you move into May, I encourage you to embrace whatever season you’re in. Accept it, lean into it. Whether God is pruning or planting, resting or reviving, He is ever present. Take time this week — maybe even set a coffee date with yourself and God — to ask Him to walk this season with you. Ask Him to give you the calm and strength you need.
And remember: “He makes everything beautiful in its time.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11)
🍁 May you have a peaceful, colorful Autumn — or a joyful, hope-filled Spring — wherever you are in the world, and whatever season you’re in.