Autumn Story

I haven't written in a long while because I've been doing some thinking, some sorting, and some just plain living. I have come to a place in my life that I never thought I would make it to, where the word "contentment" isn't just for fairy tales... it has become a reality. And I have simplified my life enough that I can just breathe, and just be, and just heal.

I have learned to laugh again, with my whole heart, like I haven't in a whole lifetime...

I have been alive long enough to know that change comes swiftly, and often catches us off guard. So instead of being fearful of not "getting anywhere" in life, at least for this season, I have taken the time to just rest, and let it all be. At some point, if nothing has changed and I grow weary of the simple life, I may try to stir things up a bit. But until then I will sit here and soak up this ever-elusive "stability" that I have stumbled into. God be praised.

This morning I awoke to the chilly breeze coming through my window, and on my way to turn the kettle on I noticed the tree next door had given up its golden canopy and scattered its treasure all over our front yard. The ground is completely covered, utterly beautiful... the kind of beauty the heart needs in order to remember to pause, reflect, and be still...

I am also shedding the old layers and preparing for vulnerable winter. I don't know what the next season will bring, but I am ready to turn bright and beautiful, to let the color show and let go, and be still and wait to be made alive again. I feel in touch with this old earth today, like my soul knows its glory and pain in this season. I feel like I fit somehow, in this story, even though I don't know how it ends.

It is enough to just be part of it all, just to breathe and feel, to laugh, and love, and be. I have asked myself lately if I am enough, if I am doing enough, if I have healed enough or loved enough, if I have made any difference in my little space on earth...

And these questions remain unanswered. Yet today I know that Almighty God knit me together before I was born, and breathed holy Life into me, and let me go, and let me fall, and let me come back to Him and gave me Life again, anew. Even the cycle of seasons tell His story. And it is enough.

I see now that I have finally given Him back the pen, in surrender and acknowledgement that He is the one creating story. And I can't decipher the plot, which sometimes makes me crazy as a writer, but I am finally okay with the mystery.

I like the story, though, that I have found this Autumn. I still don't know what story I am to write, but it is possible I have had to become satisfied in my own story before I can create one to share with the world.

For now I am content to just rest, and wait to see what happens next...