The Cubs finally won a ballgame. They’ve had two 10-game winning streaks and they were a blast to watch. Every at-bat felt like anything was possible. A few runs down? No big deal.

Then… they lost. And lost again. Ten times they lost. Watching them was brutal. It didn’t matter if the bases were loaded, the inning would quickly end. It felt like it would last fooorrrrreeeeevvvveeeerrrr.

There are seasons in life that feel just like that. Brutal. Never ending. You have everything you need, or so it seems, and still nothing comes of it. You pray. You show up. You try. And the day ends just like the one before it. Again. You start to wonder if this is just how things are now. If the feeling of possibility you once carried has simply... left.

Those seasons are real. And though they are miserable, they grow something within us. And ultimately, seasons change. Not because we will them to, or because we figured out what we were doing wrong, but because change is woven into the fabric of life itself. Nothing stays. Not the winning streaks, and not the losing ones either.

I deeply believe that there is a presence at work in every moment of our lives. Not a presence that controls outcomes or guarantees wins, but one that is constantly, quietly, persistently offering something. A nudge. A new angle. A reason to keep moving forward.

That presence doesn't disappear when the streak goes cold. If anything, it's most urgently at work precisely in those moments when we feel like we're going to strike out before we even try. The invitation doesn't stop coming. Hope isn't the certainty that things will go our way, it's the willingness to stay open to what this moment, this one moment we have alive to us might still hold.

The Cubs will turn it around. They always do, or they don't. But either way, the season moves. And so does yours and mine.

Whatever you're carrying into this week, Reader, I hope you'll hold it a little more lightly, because you are not at the end of your story. The bases are loaded, and your pitch is coming. Don't be afraid to take a swing. That's the fiLLLed life.

Live a fiLLLed life, Melissa