I’ve been wracking my brain the past week about what to write about. And now, as I write this, it’s Friday evening, and I haven’t come up with anything clever, wise, or witty.
So why not just chat?
Here in gorgeous eastern Kansas, fall has arrived. I woke this morning to the sound of the furnace running for the first time. I had an extra blanket on my bed, and when I forced myself out from beneath it, the house was cold.
I love that.
Here it is, Friday night, and just a few minutes ago I was curled up on the couch, reading Christina Coryell’s Simply Mad and watching the beginning of the third game in the World Series. I’ve broken out my nice, thick socks and I’m wearing a T-shirt and a sweatshirt.
Can you tell I love fall?
Growing up in the Midwest, I considered fall boring. I’m a redhead so I’ve never been a fan of reds, oranges, yellows, and browns. Autumn? No thank you. Give me spring every day of the year.
Then I went to college in Florida and realized how much I missed fall. The colors, the cooling weather, the chance to bundle up in sweaters and sweatshirts again. It’s the time of year when you rake up the leaves, burn ’em, and toast marshmallows. The time of year when the light begins to change and a salmony peach gilds the thinning trees each afternoon. There’s something different about the smell of the earth. Everything’s changing, and while some things are dying away, there’s still a unique beauty that captures us and creates all kinds of emotional warmth.
At least for me.
And right now I’m really taking all of the fallness in. The last couple of months have been tougher ones for me. Dead ones, it feels like at times. There are things going on in my life that I don’t like, that I don’t want. Things that, I think, cause certain parts of my life to stagnate, to fade and crumble. And right now there isn’t any way that I can change that.
I don’t say any of this to get pity or sympathy; just being honest here, and sometimes we only show off the really good stuff in our lives, right? Well, none of us live that way all the time. I’d guess everyone reading this can identify in some way. There’s probably something in your own life you’d like to change if you could. Something you wish was warmer. Or newer. Something that you wish would last longer, something you’d like to go back to.
It’s hard to imagine that there’s good in any of it, isn’t it? In my mind, life would work so much better if things went the way that made sense to me. But for whatever reason, God isn’t letting it work out that way. I remind myself what I used to think of fall. That it was a depressing season we’d be better off skipping.
How wrong I was.
Fall reminds me that I don’t know it all. That too often I don’t have the right perspective. That God is far, far bigger than me and knows what He’s doing in a way I’ll never even begin to fathom. There are no wasted seasons in our lives, are there? The cooling we might feel, the deterioration–literal and metaphorical–did not catch Him off guard. Did not slip past Him. Whatever is going on in our lives is not a mistake.
This isn’t the most romantic of posts — or is it? Because no one will ever love us more than God. He loves us enough to do what’s best for us, even when we don’t like it. Even when we whine and complain. Even when we nag Him or ignore Him. He gives us a fall season that we need. And hopefully in time we’ll be able to see the beauty in it and welcome each fall when it comes.