“For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength.” Phil. 4:13 NLT
What a comforting reminder as you go about your day – He is with you. You have all that you need to accomplish what today holds. You are loved. Peace be with you.
The autumn wind breezes through the park singing and snickering as it tosses and turns upon itself. So fickle and capricious! It’s going to be a blustery day. The Maple leaf waits in anticipation as the merry wind threads through her tree branches dashing her to and fro. Lovely chaos.
All summer she’s watched from her shaded bower as blankets were spread under her tree and picnickers relaxed and napped in the warm afternoons. In the early mornings, squirrels and a variety of birds hopped and scurried through her tree branches, busy with their task of finding breakfast.
The Maple leaf has looked forward to the coming autumn with such excitement! As she grew and filled out in the early spring, she listened to tales from the park trees of the wild adventures that await her once the cooling winds of autumn arrive.
She knows the Creator has a plan for her journey on the autumn wind. She hears Him pass by in the cool of the evenings, His breath in the flowers, His laughter dancing with the spritely breeze that is ever with Him. His presence creates ripples of joy and love that He sends forth to do His bidding. Tonight, the Maple leaf watches Him in fascination as He stops and speaks in heavenly languages over a weathered picnic table under the old pine at the edge of the park. She often sees lone walkers stop and sit at this shaded table – sometimes serene and relaxed, other times crying out pain and worry with or without words. Miracles happen here… Holy ground in a city park.
The day of her long-anticipated journey arrives with full force! As the wild autumn wind blows and gusts through the tree branches, the Maple leaf feels her hold on her tree loosen and release her. She’s off!
The whims of the wind, precisely orchestrated by the Creator toss and carry her up and down, all around the park. Exhilarating! She soars higher and higher, swirling with other leaves caught up in the gusts and plunges down quickly to brush over benches and playground equipment where she lands near the swings. Busy children run and shriek with joy as they climb, slide, and soar on the swings. Their laughter is full of carefree happiness and boundless energy. Their smiling caregivers enjoy a warm spot in the sun as they sip their coffee, chat and monitor the goings-on.
Suddenly, in a burst of wind, she is thrown up and away on another gust twirling over the park, swooping and soaring, joining some spent flower blossoms on a ride of their own.
From her vantage point, the Maple leaf notices a middle-aged woman walking slowly, but with purpose along the gravely path surrounding the park. The woman is making her way to the picnic table under the old Pine, the very table The Creator spoke over last night. The Maple leaf senses the wind slowing and gentling as she descends down, down, floating toward the picnic table alighting on the edge. There is a snap and vibrancy to the air around this table. The supernatural is afoot and it’s palpable. The woman sits and sighs deeply. Her eyes are weary. Her trembling shoulders look as if they are carrying a burden that is too heavy to bear. Tears slip down her cheeks as she pours out her sadness, and the deep fear that needles and pricks at her constantly. She is so tired – tired of carrying a burden that was never hers to carry, tired of expending energy on someone who wounds her heart again and again. She’s tired and afraid of the future. The Maple leaf listens to her heart-cry. The Creator knew she would find rest here when He spoke healing, love, and release over it; speaking and prophesying in the language of heaven exactly what her spirit needed. This divine exchange between the hurt and the Healer is the most beautiful, sacred thing the Maple leaf has ever witnessed. A life healed and restored here under the old pine as His whispers floated on the autumn breeze, His love surrounded her and the Divine mystery of Him healed her aching heart.
Rising from the picnic table with renewed hope and His peace on her shoulders, the beloved woman finishes her walk in the park with a lighter step. The Maple leaf is full of awe and wonder at all she witnessed. Beautiful. Intentional. Holy Ground.
Understanding that her adventure on the wind is coming to an end, the Maple leaf senses Him calling and singing to her, as He buoys her up, higher and higher into His glorious presence where angels and heavenly beings dwell.
Wrapped up in her crimson scarf, dark green beanie and brown combat boots, Jasmine makes her way to the dirt road that winds past her home. Tendrils of black hair wisp and flutter around her cheeks and forehead as she walks.
The air is bracing and chilly, but the hot coffee with cream warms her hands through the lidded cup.
The crunching of her boots along the dirt packed road is such a satisfying sound, purposeful with meaning and direction. The rhythmic sound is comforting and familiar and she’s been craving that feeling.
This year has been one of many changes – some welcome and some not, some expected and some blindsiding. The feeling of having no control over her life and the lives of her loved ones weighs so heavily on her raw and tender heart. There seems to be no balance to any of it and she cannot fix, re-route and smooth it over. The helplessness of it all piles up and up and leaves her feeling overwhelmed and so very tired. With every step she visualizes pounding the troubles deep into the dusty country road, imagining the puffs of dirt and tiny pebbles left in her wake floating away on the breeze and disappearing, but they don’t. The troubles just settle onto a different spot in her journey.
As she makes her way along the road Jasmine feels the peace and tranquility of the countryside begin to work its magic. Her tight shoulders and neck release, just a bit, her mind focusing on what’s around her. Birds chatter in the copse of trees just up ahead, down and around the slight bend in the road. There is a bit of marshy land to the right filled with tiny bugs and tasty treats for the morning hunters. It’s a joyful and happy noise these birds and creatures make as they faithfully trust in the Creator to supply their needs. All they need to do is watch, listen and seek out what He has given.
Passing under the branches of the old, gnarled oaks, Jasmine feels the slight change in temperature as the morning sun is temporarily blocked and chill air brushes her exposed neck and face. This is how her heart has been feeling – as if a shadow has fallen over her spirit drowning out the light and warmth, leaving her chilled, shivery and exposed. In this shadowy place she’s lost her perspective. Everything seems obscure and vague with too many unknowns. It isn’t fixable and the way is so hard to see.
On the other side of the oak trees a small trail branches to the right from the main dirt road. As she passes under the trees she feels, almost hears, in the tufted and swaying grasses, an audible sigh beckoning her to veer off and take the path. “Why not?” she whispers.
Curiosity mounting, Jasmine makes her way along the trail. She has traversed this old country lane many times and doesn’t remember this obscure path that’s barely visible through the wildflowers and grasses. Up ahead it curves off to the left around a cluster of small trees. Once past the trees the path drops down snaking off through the countryside. At the point where the path begins its descent, she sees a cluster of large rocks to the right jutting out like a shelf. There are fragrant flowering bushes around the rock cluster that give it a tucked in feeling. Safe and protected. Fascinated, Jasmine climbs up and sits on the rock shelf. She lets herself breathe in the cool air and feel the warmth of the late autumn sun penetrate her exposed skin. Warmth and protection begin working their way into that shadowy, frozen place in her heart. It’s such a lovely, cozy, feeling of safety. She hasn’t realized just how frantic and overwhelmed she’s been and how she has missed feeling safe and peaceful.
Looking at the rock she’s sitting on, she notices bits of dried leaves and finished flower petals from the nearby bushes. They spin and shimmy along in the breeze like random spinners, until they float off the edge of the rock shelf following the breeze on the journey laid out for them. The freedom in these floating petals makes her smile. Oh, to feel so light, so free, so joyful…
The breeze picks up, dancing and whispering through the wildflowers around her rock. She feels a gentle peace descend on her shoulders and thread through her hair. Tears of release that she has so fiercely guarded and held at bay, freely fall and flow down her face, splashing the rock like drops from her heart. Each tear holds the name of one she holds dear, of one she loves and desperately wants to protect, wrap up tight and keep from all harm and violence. But she’s tired, her heart can’t contain all the striving, soldiering on and fixing…it’s beyond what she can do. It rips and pulls at her spirit.
As the cleansing flood of tears subside, Jasmine notices that in the warm, life-giving light of the sun, her tears soak up and evaporate. A hush falls around the rock and a Voice she recognizes speaks into her soul. “I have them now. Their names are engraved on the palms of My hands, as is yours. Their burdens are not yours to carry. I have them and they are safe. I gathered up your tears in a bottle where My breath and My will have transformed them into droplets of peace, joy and beauty. You are safe and hidden in My sanctuary. I have placed you upon a high rock where you will find rest for your world-weary soul. I am a shield about you, you are never alone.”
Her parched spirit soaks up these whispered words and softens. Her troubled, fearful, frantic thoughts slow and dissolve; blown away by the flighty breeze tousling her hair. As she sits on this high rock, safe and tucked away, her heart and soul open up and she has room to breathe. In the place where fear, anxiety and a desperate need to control once dwelled, now courage, bravery and deep joy begin blossoming. Her captured tears have been transformed into fragrant, life-giving water that cleanses and renews all that was lost and broken. She will find beauty again. She is confident of this.
As the autumn sun makes it lazy descent, Jasmine is ready to head back. She isn’t the same person who started out this morning. Her feet feel light and confident as she follows the path back to the main road. The warmth of the setting sun on her back feels so safe, like the protective hand of a Father who is ever vigilant and watchful, who has all things under His control. She really can rest now. “…My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”1
Do you ever experience those days, weeks or months where specific life circumstances seem to have no solid solution? Where there seems to be no way over, around or through a particular issue?
Not long ago, I was feeling this acutely with frustration and weariness settling in for what seemed like a long and exhausting ride. I was tired of myself and my thoughts, mulling things over in exactly the same way and finding no joy, relief or solution.
There is a local park that I love to walk through, especially in the fall. There is something about the way the light slips and shines through the trees. The colors beginning to move through the leaves paints such a hopeful picture. It feels like something is just around the corner out of sight. Anticipation.
Around and around the park I went, following the same path greeting fellow walkers, joggers, and meander-ers. Seeing the joy of dogs chasing balls, sniffing after squirrels and frisking in the cooling fall air felt so calming and happy. Some of the tension in my soul softened and released. I had room to breathe. I noticed some peace and a bit of joy seeping in, crowding out the fret, worry and control that was trying so hard to establish dominance. The autumn sun on my face, the crisp air and the beauty of the park were working their magic.
I distinctly remember rounding a curve in the path. The shade of the huge, old oak tree bathed me in cool, sweet air as I stepped into its shade. As I felt the abrupt change from warmth to the cool refreshment of shade, I felt a Whisper nudge my heart saying, “change directions.” I knew Your voice. This Voice has spoken to me, prophesied and sung over me, healed and restored me so many times, in so many circumstances that to obey it is second nature.
I stopped and stood in the shade for a few minutes and then I changed direction. “What are you saying to me, God?” I whispered. “I’m watching, I’m listening.”
Walking in a different direction along this path, I noticed that things looked quite different than they did while I was going the other way. I could see the other side of the trees and the way the light looked different peeking through branches that I couldn’t see before. I saw a bird’s nest and squirrels nibbling at pinecones which had been obscured from view. There was a group of older men sitting in a circle with their tired dogs lolling and stretching out as they chatted, joked and laughed together. I couldn’t see them when I was walking the other direction because they were hidden from view by a large cluster of trees. Seeing them there enjoying their dogs and long-time friendship made me smile.
As I noticed these hidden gems I missed when walking the way I always go, it struck me that I have been stuck in the way I viewed the things going on around me. I had expectations, stubborn ideas and a one-sided view of how things should be handled. I wasn’t looking for a new way, a different way, a fresh way. I was looking at my way.
Your whispered call to change direction resonated with me. My spirit, eyes and heart needed a new perspective, Yours. In my striving, worrying and need to control the things swirling around me and those I hold dear, I completely missed Your voice. You are asking me to let go – to remember You are the Author of my life story and the story of those I love. You see from all directions, all at once and always will. You have it all in control, well sorted, and everyone tenderly cared for as Your plans for us play out in the tapestries You never cease weaving and the prophesy You never cease speaking.
I find that now, when I’m walking a path figuratively and literally, I stop and look back, make sure to change direction and listen for Your whisper that You are near, and all is well. It is surprising what one can see from a different direction. You are as close as my next breath, in the breeze, soothing me in the shade of Your presence and restoring me with a different perspective. A change of scenery can make such a difference to a wearied and stubborn soul. I’m learning that down every path He takes us, there is always a place to stop, rest a while and change direction.
The Park Bench and the Willow Tree
Gentle sunbeams peek through the branches and leaves of the willow tree. The soft light covers one edge of the wooden park bench beneath its branches.
The sun hasn’t been up for long. The spring morning is quiet and cool after a clear and chilly night. The newly budding leaves are vibrant and proud. They take their job seriously as the giver of shade to the bench and those who visit it.
They are a pair, these two, often referred to as the “willow bench” by those who find solace in its shade and peace from the view of the lovely little park. The things they have heard and seen in their years together – laughter and tears, joy and pain, love and heartbreak. Anxiety and fear are lifted and soothed as the Creator’s breath blows healing in the breeze rustling the leaves and cooling the bench-sitter.
His whispered healing is found in bird song, critter antics, fellow bench sitters and simply the peace and quiet where words are not needed; where love flows and tenderly holds the wounds poured out in the freedom found under the sweeping branches.
The willow and the park bench have seen seasons come and go. Spring, with the burst of new growth and gentle light from the sun encouraging park visitors to venture out and soak up the warmth.
The coming of Summer invites families, groups, picnics and summer games of baseball, frisbee throwing and kite flying with the bench and the willow providing shade and rest.
In the Fall, the leaf-peepers and lovers of the season, with their hoodies and warm drinks in hand, walk the park with anticipation of the changing colors and that feeling of slowing down, coziness and letting go that Fall always conjures.
There are less visitors in Winter when the cold descends, and glimpses of the sun are few and far between. The park folds in on itself as the work of deep rest and hidden growth takes place.
Then there are the faithful ones who visit the bench and the willow no matter the season. They have experienced peace and deep rest here. The wooden bench and gnarled willow are old friends who know all the secrets and pining of the heart and accept and embrace it without words. These park-goers have felt the divine whispers and heavenly songs breathed out over them while sitting in nature’s silence. They have allowed the healing and supernatural presence of the Creator to bind up wounds and lift heavy burdens. With ears that hear and eyes that see, what is sought can be found in the most ordinary and beautiful places.
There is a restless, unsettled energy hovering around my heart and soul this morning as I take that first anticipated sip of coffee. The dark, earthy scent is familiar and safe; an old and expected routine. Yet, the familiarity is not calming and soothing this morning and that throws me off-kilter.
Watching the critter activity from my kitchen window, steaming coffee warming my hands, I am reminded of the power nature possesses to soothe, hush, and calm my spirit. It’s where I talk to You and hear You speak to me. Healing. Peace.
Time to get outside!
Donning a hoodie with Pacific Northwest on the front, I grab a hat. I choose the one that says “Sorta Sweet, Sorta Savage” on the front of it. That’s how I feel this morning. Restless, savage, a bit wild in the heart. I need movement.
The park with the pond is beautiful this morning. The geese are already up, fussing and snipping at the grass, finding their favorite delicacies. Their contented honks and bossy hissing are pleasant and funny. The routine of it calms and soothes. My chilled hands unclench, just a bit.
There is a big white egret sunning itself and hunting. It stands on its thin, nimble legs on a jumble of rocks in a corner of the pond motionless, yet always watching for the slightest movement of its next meal. The egret shares this rock with another pond dweller catching some morning sun. Always vigilant and suspicious, the large pond turtle appears to be oblivious to me, but I know it isn’t. I’m being carefully monitored.
Brilliant blue sky above me, dew-damp grass under my feet, and a spunky breeze skipping around the pond – the perfect morning.
On the other side of the pond the trees are showing off their gorgeous autumn colors. The vivid oranges and reds blend and blur with the yellows and greens like a startling tableau of beauty and peace. I take a few moments at the edge of the pond to soak it in. The sight is majestic, bold, and insistent – the contrasting loveliness of the bright blue sky and these gorgeous colors demand all my focus and attention. There is strength and defiance in the colors and tenacious hold these trees have on their foliage, as they shout their last hurrah before letting go and descending into rest, quiet and rebirth at the change of season. It must happen. The change is inevitable, predicted and set into motion by Your design. The letting go is part of life as it unrelentingly moves forward. I see that as I take in the trees and seasonal changes at the pond. It brings some comfort to my troubled and agitated heart.
This is a season of many changes and I’m forced to find my way in a new normal. I don’t like it and it frightens me. I struggle and kick, even though I know it will happen despite my stubborn clinging. I feel a bit savage about the letting go. Unsettled. Unknown. Defiant.
Moving along the edge of the pond, I look up through the stunning leaf color and pause to breathe deeply. I sense You here with me. Cleansing. Surrender. Beauty. Safe.
You are here in the season of rebirth and new life, and the season of release and rest. It is incessant, this change of season. It is needed, necessary and it will happen. My shoulders slowly drop, and my back relaxes as You speak to my soul and minister to my heart. You remind me there is beauty in the letting go. It is the precursor to a season of change, growth, and intimacy with You. The status quo never brings the exciting feeling of a new chapter and fresh adventures. You have more in store for me. My purpose on Earth is continually moving – being blown by Your breath and Your plan. The journey to get there involves upheaval and letting go. Trust. Intimacy. Faith.
The spunky breeze is back and becoming a bit more playful in its bluster. Resuming my walk, I am suddenly caught up in a whirlwind of brightly finished leaves and brown grasses, whirling, and tossing and pulling at my hat. Laughing, I raise my arms and let it dart, tease and play! Zipping and dancing all around me and sticking to my sleeves, the leaves embrace the wildness and seemingly random whim of the wind and let go. It is magical, beautiful, and joyful! My heart responds and softens – restlessness and fear melting away. “Can I trust You with me, Lord?”, I ask in the wind. “Absolutely!”, the leaves reply, as they dash away in freedom on the adventure You created for them.
Summer is drawing to a close. The months of bright, festive flowers that beckon and sing to the pollinators and picnickers is dwindling down. There will be a few days of heated fury and defiance, where summer rebels just a bit – blazing hot and fierce. Time is almost up, and it knows.
The garden knows, too, and begins the descent into autumn. The spring and summer flowering plants and bushes slow and droop, dropping dried blooms, except for those that flourish and delight in autumn, bringing fresh color and excitement to a waning garden.
With this changing of the guard comes a season of pruning. Much needs to be done to keep the garden looking loved, cared for and peaceful. Garden shears, trimmers and trowels are still needed.
Upon close inspection, one sees the stems, leaves, vines, and small branches shut down, wither, and die back. The perennials need this season of pruning for survival; they need someone to cut away and remove those areas that are no longer serving them or the garden. At times the pruning seems brutal, harsh, and perhaps cruel as some parts are cut away so severely there is hardly any of the original plant left. All is cut away that is not actively helping, nurturing, and stimulating growth in the plant. Those dead and dying off parts suck vital nutrients from the healthy stems, branches, and leaves. A good gardener knows that they cannot be left to compete with and deplete the healthy plant.
Bending close to check each branch and stem, the gardener determines where best to trim and cut away. At first glance, a stem or branch may look completely wasted away, yet a closer look reveals tiny, minute new growth attempting to push its way out. The gardener values this new growth, barely visible except to the one who actively seeks and delights in nourishing this fledgling sprout of new life. All that is above it will be removed and tossed away, allowing plenty of room and careful tending to encourage the new life.
Do you see how this imagery of a master gardener lovingly tending his or her garden applies so beautifully to how the Creator loving and intentionally prunes, tends, and cares for each of us?
The pruned plant may look bedraggled and worse for wear, hacked and shorn off, appearing vulnerable and fragile. But this is where the unseen work takes place in the root system below the surface. With the dead and decaying parts pruned away, the roots are free to prepare and strengthen the fragile plant for the new life waiting for rebirth when the season is just right; when spring comes and the time for its new beginning arrives. The quiet season of strength building is vital for this plant and is vital for us, too. When the Master Gardener deems it is time, new life will burst up, break forth and take its place in the Garden of Life, amid humanity, where the plant and you and I will live out our purpose, delight those meant to encounter us and be deeply nourished from a root system well established and fed by the Master Gardener and His living water.
The pruning season is hard. It hurts and can leave us feeling like there is nothing left of us but stumpy, stick-like nubs that are ugly, barren and have no purpose. But we can’t see with the eyes of the Master Gardener, who sees these shorn off places as a thing of great beauty and Divine Purpose, because He knows what’s coming. He sees the pruned places for what they are; stealers of joy, a heavy weight of bad habits, bitterness and anger, idols we erected in our search for happiness and value, and greedy competitors that robbed precious energy. I imagine Him smiling and laughing in anticipation of all that He is doing below the surface to the root system of our lives. Every nip, cut, snip and prune hold tremendous value and purpose. So, can we endure for a little while, during the quiet autumn of the pruning season, to see the joy, delight and surprise that will spring forth?
I love how the autumn light filters and dances through the red and gold leaves; a light, pixie-like breeze gently rustling them, sending a few floating lazily to the ground.
Standing still for a moment, taking in the smell, the light, the feel of that breeze lightly brushing my skin, I feel my shoulders relax and drop down a bit as I smile and breathe deeply.
The packed dirt and gravel path looks so inviting; it’s already claimed other nature loving souls this morning, who heeded the call to get out and be refreshed; joggers, walkers, meanderers; their faces reflecting the serenity that I’m desperate for today.
Preoccupied squirrels with fluffy brown tails are busy with their autumn tasks; digging, ruffling, burying their treasures. They make me happy. In an odd way, it is calming and peaceful to see them hard at work, yet seeming to revel in the autumn air and changing season as much as I am; their purposeful movements interspersed with dramatic bouts of scampering, scolding and tail waving.
The crunch of small rocks and dried leaves makes a pleasing sound as I walk the park. Haphazardly scattered along the pathway, among the rocks and sticks and other seasonal detritus, I am delighted to find bright red and orange leaves, which at first sight seem random, yet cause me to marvel at Mother Nature and the seemingly perfect placement of her handiwork. Lovely. A bright spot on the path, a reminder to be alert and observe, “there is beauty on your path but you must watch for it.”
What else might I be missing? I still my mind and watch and listen and smell; I observe with eyes that are looking for small joys and beauty; the things so ordinary that they are overlooked, yet are packed with meaning, novelty and beauty.
Laughter. I hear it. Toddlers so delighted with their game of hide and seek that they shriek out their joy and reveal their hiding spaces; feeling confident and protected as they run full speed through the grass, filling their young lungs with air and collapsing in a giggling heap with their gasping parents close behind. This. This is living. Exhausting oneself with pure happiness!
There is the man on the shady bench with his dog; a picture of contentment as he strokes the white head of his poodle and talks gently to it. His face is serene and his posture relaxed; the dog lying still observing us walkers, joggers and meanderers. Easy companionship.
I see the determined jogger, who runs past with heavy breathing and intense focus on her path, yet takes a moment to make eye contact, smile and chuff out a hello! Determined, yet aware.
From one vantage point at the far end of the path, I see the entire park open up in front of me. I feel joyful. I can’t help but smile wide at the deep green of the grassy area, where delighted dogs romp and chase far flung Frisbees, frisking around their guardians; where an older couple strolls hand in hand, taking in the park and all its beauty, totally unhurried; the huge mix of old trees that offer shade and respite for those enjoying the morning – pines, oaks and other varieties – the playground with excited children busy at play, imagining themselves invincible as they climb the slide ladder.
This morning walk in the park helped me shed a feeling of heaviness I did not realize I had been hauling around with me. I feel relaxed, open and so light; aware of just how much the ordinary is designed to bring joy, peace and a sense of centering, but we must have our senses ready to receive it. Our Creator knew just what He was up to, down to every slight detail; so intricate, yet so often overlooked, as we search out something huge and wild and shattering to bring back our peace and our sense of normalcy, when all we need is right in front of us, waiting to be seen with new eyes and fresh appreciation. Nature is calling, can you hear her?
We lover’s of Autumn have a sixth sense about us; a knowing when that first revelation of summer’s end has arrived.
It is felt on the skin in that barely discernable nip and twinge of air, charged with the slightest of chills; awareness that the atmosphere has changed just a smidge.
Autumn’s scent is unique and mischievous. Earthy and deep; wise, pungent and bold in the way brown leaf tips, restless trees and fading flowers bend and drop to the Earth, daring the one watching to stop them; to impede the ancient progress of a slow, yet lovely descent into quiet and rest.
That spritely spurt of wind, which tosses and dances fallen leaves and finished flowers round and round, is delightful. What is it about piling up crispy, browned leaves and then dashing them about; flinging them from orderly piles into random and untamed flurries of color? A new beginning; a tossing and mixing up of the old, lazy routine into something new; a plan to disrupt the status quo and wait patiently through the Winter, as that plan takes on form and substance. Somehow the chaos of it is lovely and energizing; part of the ritual. It is one more wild streak before the settling and simmering of Autumn moves on to the mystery and silent brooding of Winter.
The discerning observer will witness Nature’s response to the shift from the indolent, dog days of summer to Autumn’s call to let go; the song of quiet purpose and intention, as Mother Earth whispers it’s time to fold in, cozy up and allow rest to perform its miracles and the deep, sweet slumber of Winter to wait in the wings.
There is something inspiring and invigorating in this call to purposeful letting go; an anticipation. Is it the definitive color changes and that unmatched fall scent in the air that feels like a new beginning? Is it the crisp sensation of fall air as one breathes it in?
Welcome Autumn! Come and show off your colors and dare us to think about the dead or dying places that we need to let fall; not with sadness or fear; but with an anticipation that a season of silent regrouping, where new life starts to bud, will soon break free with the coming of Spring. It’s coming and it will be glorious!
Extravagant Hope 