It’s when I see a leaf fall, flowers fade, the sunset after dinner, feel the chill in the morning air. Autumn is here in more ways than just the change of calendar … and I feel sad.
Autumn was once my favorite season, with it’s red leaves, sweater weather and talk of Thanksgiving. It is the season hubby and I met and were married, the season when two of our three were born. It was my favorite season …
Then, for some reason, unknown to me, I began to see it, not as the start of something new, but the end of something loved.
Don’t get me wrong, I do still take delight in the cool breeze and changes in the color of the leaves, but … the seasonal change … it also seems to herald endings.
The older I get the more I embrace the heat of summer, daylight stretching into the night, bare feet, leisure time.
I recently read a verse that made me ponder these feelings about the autumn.
“And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither and whatever he does will prosper.” Psalm 1:3
Maybe that is it … maybe it’s the withering that is partially to blame for my apathy towards this once favorite seasonal change. Maybe I am starting to see myself as withering and fruitless.
It is so easy to feel less fruitful once the house is quiet of the daily noise of kids in the house. It can feel a bit like you’re a leaf that was blown off the tree.
Yet, if my hope is in God, if I stay planted near him (in prayer and in reading of his word), this Psalm assures me that I will still produce fruit in my life, still be used by him to do his will.
A number of days ago, hubby was beckoned to an elderly lady. Originating from Southeast Asia, Canada has been her home for many years. Now into her nineties, she spends her days praying.
all. day. every. day.
This is what she says is her calling, her purpose … and she fulfills it beautifully.
When hubby walked to her, she said, “I am going to pray for your family” and immediately proceeded to do just that.
“It was just beautiful. Something so special,” he said, when he told me at home later.
This woman, though very much withered physically, has stayed near the living water and she has not withered in spirit or purpose one bit. She is still, very much, producing fruit.
Kinda makes me want to go play in the leaves.
A lifetime of the day following the Labor Day weekend signalling the beginning of a new school year simply reinforces my belief that this is the second new year of the year.
itsawonderfilledlife 