Every Purpose Under Heaven

I watched a leaf fall today, the wind spinning and tossing it about before it finally reached ground, and skittered along the pavement to find a resting place beside my car. I suddenly felt solemn, as I often do in Autumn, viewing the blatant beauty of death, and weighing it against the promise of the life that is to come.

I have lived long enough, and seen enough seasons by now to know that Spring, and new life, always comes. It is no longer faith, but mere expectation. Growing older, you gain wisdom, you learn the way things are... but you have to be careful not to lose your sense of wonder in the process. I feel that mine is threatened at all times.

I like to read Ecclesiastes this time of year. It is a stunningly beautiful bit of literature. I am searching different translations to find the the one I love most. But I recommend sitting down and reading it, in it's entirety, while sitting outside letting the leaves let go of life around you.

I don't want to be one of those fragile old women who weeps at everything, but I will be brave enough to say that, on my break today, with the breeze, and the leaves, and the poetry of the Bible at my fingertips, I shed a few tears as I thought about it all... life, and death, and the changing seasons... toiling under the sun, and the vanity of it all. I desire so deeply to leave some fingerprints behind when I go. I fear that I may never learn how.

I often think of my grandmother these days. I suppose it only natural, this being the first full season without her. But I see her in everything. I remember her every time the sun clears the wall of trees outside my window, and for a few brief moments of the morning, reaches through to touch my face with warmth. Every now and again, for just a second, I will start to remind myself to call her, and then realize... and painful as it is, part of me dreads the day when I stop doing that, too.

To everything, there is a season...

What this season holds, or what it's purpose may be, I cannot fully guess. I know only that I am being shaped, that I am growing, that I can see myself a little more clearly these days. Once again, I open my heart to Autumn, I drink in all the sight and scent of it. I take a lesson from the leaves, and try to let go, and see where the wind will take me.

I must learn to let go... so that a few seasons away, I can see the new life growing freely. I think I have enough faith to trust that there really is a time for every purpose under heaven.