I stepped outside the other morning to clip some flowers and leaves to put together a little arrangement for my kitchen counter and as I walked through my backyard, I had to stop for a moment and just soak it all in. There was a cool, gentle breeze blowing through the branches of our maple tree.
The sunlight danced on the leaves, picking up every shade of red and gold and green. The freshly mowed grass gave off the most glorious scent as the morning dew clung to each blade.
And I just stood there.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in, slowly exhaling and letting the beauty of the moment wash over me, in awe of the gift of the changing season.
In the car coming home from church last week, Robb and I were joyfully making observations about how beautiful the trees looked with the leaves changing and how much it was starting to feel like fall. We could feel the kids rolling their eyes at us from the backseat.
After a few minutes though I began to chuckle to myself as I realized that we make the SAME observations about the SAME trees every single year.
Yes, we’re dorks.
But, somehow, it still surprises us every year that the leaves change and the air gets cooler and the days grow shorter. “Why is it already dark outside?”, we ask each other, knowing full well the answer to that question.
And I can’t help but think that one of the best things about the changing of the seasons is that, while it feels brand new every year, it is also so wonderfully predictable.
And, these days, anything predictable is very welcomed in my world.
Acts 14:17 says, “Yet he has not left himself without testimony: He has shown kindness by giving you rain from heaven and crops in their seasons; he provides you with plenty of food and fills your heart with joy.”
The very act of one season turning into another is a testimony of our Creator.
The abundance gathered during the harvest is tangible evidence of His goodness. And it all reminds us that when there is so much turmoil and angst and heartache, He is still on His throne.
My son is a senior in high school this year so autumn has an even more bittersweet feel to it than usual. The evidence of change outside reflects what is happening inside our home as well. There are weekly, even almost daily, conversations about his future and we all feel the significance of this time in our family.
My prayer is that Ian finds comfort in knowing that our home will always be an anchor for him as he ventures out into the world. That he can rely on us to provide the stability he needs when the future seems so uncertain.
Just as we can rely on the changing of the seasons to remind us of the sovereignty of the Lord, we should cultivate a spirit of stability in our homes where, no matter what changes in the world outside of these walls, our families know that they can rely on this place to be a solid foundation.
And we pray that it will be a testimony to the world of what it means to put our hope in more than the things of this earth.
Thank you for meeting me here today friends,