Some Seasons Sift You, Some Seasons Lift You.

As we step into the last week of November, we're entering into the home stretch of 2025, and I’ve been doing what many of us do quietly at this time of the year: taking stock. And if we’re honest, this year has been a mixed harvest.

Some people around me have celebrated wins; new jobs, new homes, new campaigns, restored peace, recovered confidence. And others… have been carrying the weight of loss; job losses, financial strain, unexpected downgrades, grief, disappointment, and silent battles no one claps for.

But here’s the thing about life: every year is a season, and every season does not look the same. In one household, someone is reaping. Next door, someone is still waiting for rain. Across the street, someone is planting again with trembling hands.

The Field That Looks “Dead” Isn’t Dead. I want to use the one example that has never lied to humanity: agriculture. When a farmer walks into a field that looks bare, dry, or quiet, no one calls them foolish. We understand seed-time. We understand waiting. We understand that what’s happening under the soil is louder than anything happening above it.

Some of us have been in that “underground” year. A year where nothing looked like it was moving, yet everything inside you was being rearranged, strengthened, stretched, or healed.

A year where you were being planted, not punished. (Read that again!!!). Covered, not cancelled. Hidden, not hopeless. The truth is, trees don’t grow all year and neither do we. There are seasons where trees shed. You see trees looking barren and almost defeated. If you didn’t understand nature, you’d swear a tree in winter is dying. But guess what? That’s the season where the roots are doing the real work; reaching deeper, stabilising, preparing for the weight of next season’s growth. Some of you have been in a root season. It felt and still feels lonely. It felt and feels like everyone else was flourishing while you were stuck, uncertain, or losing things you once held tightly.

If this was your year of shedding, hear me:

• Shedding is not shame, it’s preparation.

• And Then There Are Years of Harvest.

Maybe this was your year of green leaves, open doors, answered prayers, new beginnings, and long-awaited relief. If that’s you, celebrate loudly and humbly. Because every harvest we celebrate today once had a painful pruning season.

But if this wasn’t your year…

• Take heart.

• The calendar is not your enemy.

• You are not behind.

• And God has not run out of plans with your name on them.

What the festive season and December doesn’t mean; December does not mean “if it hasn’t happened by now, it never will.”

December simply closes one chapter while heaven continues writing the next. The same God who wakes seeds in spring……is the same God who will wake your life in your appointed season. As we enter into the last part of the calendar year, here’s my prayer for you.........

May your hope rise again, even softly, even slowly. May what you lost be replaced by something mature and meaningful. May peace return to your home and clarity to your mind. May you find the strength to plant again, dream again, and risk again. And may a new season surprise you with green shoots in places you thought were permanently barren.

• Seasons shift.

• Cycles turn.

• Fields revive.

• Trees bloom again.

And so will you.

Yours in development,

The Business Doctor Keitumetse Lekaba.