It's hard to discern whether it's the gently used school supplies or the surprising newness you find in an old sweater that's been nestling under your bed, begging for an excuse to be nuzzled against to your body the past six months. A kind of warmth that's different then the one you feel in July.
Perhaps it is the slight change you feel when you walk out your door on a morning that holds a staggering chill. One that's brisk enough to take your breath and turn it into a visible haze of vapor stuck in your face. Then, you pull your numbing fingers into the hollow spaces of that new-old sweater, breathe in the nip in the air, and face a day that feels fresh.
These days.....
They keep on coming, and, despite their frequency, you still acknowledge the beauty of the harvest hues in the trees that are growing brighter, transforming your plain neighborhood into a striking tapestry of color.
It's one one these days in late October where you walk down your decorated street to pick up the mail, admiring another charming moment in the perfect season. The sun is shining on your slightly chilled nose and you're thinking you might make that special cider for the third time....
Then, it hits you in the face. The wind, that is, and suddenly your new-old sweater doesn't make you feel quite warm enough. Those magnificent trees have leaves.... and they are falling. They shrivel on a side walk that is grey; the same sort of shade that will soon stand with the trees in only their scraggly branches. The season? It's changing.
There's something about Autumn that I find perfect... and Autumn dies.
There's an expression I've believed: "Life is Good". Still, when things go well, I fear what could go wrong.
Those moments you're demoralized, stuck in the coldness of winter, and you guiltlessly complain....Life is not good. When all color, all beauty is lost, I don't think I am afraid. I'm more occupied with the countless ways that life can, and will, become better.
It's these Autumn moments, where things seem so right that I start to be paralyzed by the fear of losing it all. The threats of "Life is not perfect", "Life is not fair", and all of those other true things your parents told you come alive. "When is that awful thing going to happen?", because bliss has always been temporary.
When good is present, when good is lost.... I believe this to be true:
God is present and good. Consistent.
Despite what I believe, my actions hold unswervingly to the things in my life that make me happy and a disgust for all that is uncomfortable. It's not that God wants me unhappy. What I do think God wants me to see clearly that He is God and I am not, whether life is good or not.
So, let me bask in the the glorious fall that I adore, and when it becomes frigid, I'll attempt to realize (and hope to understand) that it's only for a time.... and God exists in it all.
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