Looking back at a post I wrote last May, I have to pause and give praise to a God who is so faithful to me. At the time, I was still picking up the pieces of a very broken summer, fall, and winter. I was praying that this year would allow summer to come to my soul again, a time of warmth and healing and joy. Oh how God answered that plea! My summer was rich with all three of those things.
Entering fall now, I find myself back in rhythm with creation around me. I feel much of life shedding its leaves, many subtle deaths that, though sad, feel natural. I see a thousand little seeds fall to the ground like those that drop from pine cones, and I look forward to what I know will be beautiful when the time comes back around for things to bloom.
Indeed, there is much change going on in and around me. Relationships shift; some slip away for a season like the sun, others wrap around me like a favorite sweater. Brisk winds blow through the streets of my trailer park and rattle the branches of the way I see my world. School work piles up with the leaves on the sidewalks outside. I joyfully soak up the fall sunshine--so much less oppressive than the summer heat--all the while looking toward the impending cold with a bit of fear and hesitation. The air is crisp as I stand on the brink of all that winter will hold. It is beautiful.
Yes, I love the seasons. Especially fall. Thank God for the sun and the grey, the dying and the new life, the shifting and the growing that come with the seasons of my soul.