My mom’s favorite season was autumn; she loved the colors and she loved Thanksgiving. I missed 12 years of autumn, living in Africa where it was gloriously summer all year. Actually, I think I’ve always missed the wonders of fall. There were so many years of changes, moving, often buried under the weight of the school year. Over the years, there have been many burdens to bear.
My mom and dad are gone now, houses sold, things given away. My own kids are far away. Pen in hand, I look out the window. Oh, those beautiful trees! Don’t they know that the leaves changing colors mean that they are going away? Aren’t they not afraid of saying good-bye to their familiar branches? It always seemed so sad to me before, I could hardly bear it. Maybe that is why I’ve never looked deep into this season, so many personal good-byes, so many countries left behind, friends on the other side of the world, many seasons of life gone by.
This year, however, I have lingered in the wonder of a season that has waited long enough. Suddenly I’m experiencing a love for a season I’ve never really noticed before. The wonder of the colorful leaves and the miracle of the changing season is truly marvelous. I see it and I see God, “for since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made,“ Romans 1:20
Every tree out there seems to be doing its own thing! Why had I not seen all this before? If only I could pour the words onto paper and capture this display in all its warmth and profound love of God. The leaves are beautiful and they have a beautiful message to give. This is their finest hour and they are fearless. Such boldness! Its on display for all to see….for me to see if I would open the privileged eye. And what do I see? I see fearlessness. This is a season of a rare bold tenderness.
Why is autumn so audacious? What makes it so brave? The trees know full well that spring is real. Spring is real and it will come, fresh and as lovely as ever. Oh, how I have always loved the spring! My prayer this morning is that I will love autumn too. May I glory in this season like I have never done before. Nothing of yesterday can touch the glory of this moment. This is a moment worth waiting for; worth living for.
My prayer is that all God’s children, whether they are young or old, will all gather at Thanksgiving with joy and a profound statement of victory and strength. The delightful little secret of autumn is that spring sleeps in its hidden place. It is Autumn’s turn to parade His glory. It whispers to be noticed. I will not miss this one; I will live today as bold as the autumn.
May we be “oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord of the display of His splendor” (Isaiah 61:3). May we live bold, beautiful, fearless lives, as faithful as the season that is on display before us.