Letting Go

Fall is somewhat of a somber season for me. The length of time the sun shines shortens. The brightness of life fades. I feel tired. But instead of fighting the changes of this season, I am seeking to embrace them. And running head first into Fall means not only embracing change, but also letting things go so change can happen.

I feel like God is asking me to let go of a lot of things in this season of life: my timelines, my expectations, my hopes and dreams, my definition of what it means to live a good life. My life is not bad by any means, but it is hard. I thought I'd be married with a family of my own by this point, or at least living in my own house. I thought I'd have figured out some of the hard stuff. I thought I'd be settled into my job, have friends, by plugged in fully at church, etc. etc. I thought...but God had other plans.

I saw this quote on Instagram the other day and it really resonated with me. God has taken some things away, and allowed other things to fade, but He is still present. And if He is still present, there is beauty. 

My dad likes to say, "It is what it is." My life is what it is. My relationships are what they are. My current possessions are current, and that is all. Sure, I've let a lot go, and I'll probably have to let more go. But this is my life, and I don't want to miss it. 

So if this season both externally and internally means letting go, I'm going to look for beauty. I'm going to embrace the present and try to just be. By God's grace, I can practice stillness, wait on the Lord, and choose joy. 

Perhaps letting go will make space for God to plant new hopes and dreams and desires in my heart. Or perhaps the Lord needs to make room in my life for more of Himself. Both probably need to happen. May the beauty of the Lord shine through this season in either case.

The Changes of Fall

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.”

~Ecclesiastes 3:1

My alarm blares and it's cool outside. I rise and shuffle to the bathroom and see no sun at the window. I pull into the driveway at night after work just as the sunlight is fading. I throw on a light jacket before dinner. Flowers begin to drop their petals and die. Tinges of colors appear in the leaves of trees. This is autumn and it's difficult for me.

I thrive on sunlight and light and joy. I relish long days of heat and warmth and productivity. I like the brown tone of my skin and the sun-kissed streaks of my hair. I like walking, and hiking, and running; wearing tank tops and shorts and cropped yoga pants. I paint my toes and wear flip-flops. I wear my swim suit to the pool even if I don't swim.

And then it's all over. It's not, but I feel like it is. I have a sense of loss and mourning and deep sadness. It's the weather, I know, but this changing of seasons is HARD for me. The weather is unpredictable. My wardrobe choices cater towards the cold mornings or the hot days and fall short at the opposite hour. The light I love arrives and departs far too quickly. Life fades and dies. But this season of autumn is like life.

Life has its seasons, too: infancy, childhood, adolescence, adulthood. Singleness, dating; marriage. Children, no children, being cared for by children. Elementary school, middle school, high school, college. Careers and career changes. Retirement. Life is full of change. Life is change. And change is HARD.

God is working on my heart in this season, teaching me to look for the joy amidst the pain of the hard: afternoons cool enough to sit outside midday; the return of pumpkin puree to the baking aisle; pumpkin pie spice products at Trader Joe's; autumn colors in the leaves; new crops of apples arrive. And God is reminding me that some things need to die in order for others to live. Some relationships come and then change, or go, making room for others. People we revered become people we don't know and God shows us new sources of truth. Flavors, and tastes, and preferences become different. Things that used to bring satisfaction or joy don't. It's not necessarily that the beauty is corrupted, but that it dies in order to allow us to discover something else.

New things happen in fall, but some stay the same at the same time. My family is still here to support me. I still have a home. The outdoor world might be different, but there is still sun and I can walk and hike and jog in it. My church is still standing. I still have friends, even if at a distance. The Bible is still true. I am thankful for these things. God is still here. God is still here, even as many other worldly things are falling away.