Seasons changing

I went for a hike the other day. It is where I find great peace and closeness with God. The trail I ventured on was new to me. Funny how the trail always seem longer when you are unfamiliar with the route. I don’t know why it is like that. Unfamiliarity, I suppose, brings uncertainty. Once the trail is familiar and the landmarks are known, the routes always seem shorter.

Walking further down the trail, the sounds of the city begin to disappear. One must travel far enough into the woods to find silence when you live near a city. The noises seem to follow everywhere we go. Silence, many times, is illusive. I crave silence. It is in the silence that I hear. It is in the silence that I better understand.

Autumn is my favorite season. I welcome the change in weather, the crisp air, and the changing color of the leaves. As I continue my walk I notice many leaves making their way to the ground. As the wind blows, they gracefully fall off the tree. They don’t seem to fight the change of season. They let go, for the change is imminent, and they accept it. I wonder about the change of seasons in my life…have I fought them? Have I struggled to let go? Did I let go gracefully? If the leaves do not let go, there will be no room for new growth. The outer layers are shed and the trees becomes bare. They stand without cover and without protection and they endure the coming season of winter.

When the hot days of summer make their arrival in Atlanta, I begin my countdown to cooler weather, a change I eagerly await. Not all changes do I look forward to, in fact I don’t care for change. Change usually means having to let go or shed something, or possibly having something stripped away. The process may very likely leave me exposed and feeling bare for a while; a stage that precedes the completion of change. Exposure, bareness, and vulnerability are feelings I resist. Maybe if I knew how long this change would take, I might be more willing to accept it. A short exposure, I might consider enduring, but a prolonged bareness, I do not welcome. Just like the unknown trail, the unfamiliar path of change seems longer to travel than it actually might be.

A bare tree is subject to the elements. It may be beaten and battered for a season, but that season does come to an end; all seasons do. My survival during the winters go better when I stand with the One who is my shelter – Jesus.

We will face many change of seasons. Something will definitely tell us that we are in the midst of a change. There will be signs – the leaves will change color, the autumn blue sky will appear, and the temperatures will drop, all evidence that the change of season is upon us. Will we allow the seasons of fall and winter to unfold so they can usher in the spring? We may not have any idea of how long the season will take, but ultimately it will change. Will we let the autumn leaves gracefully make their way to the ground to make room for the new life that arrives with springtime? Sometimes we are asked to embrace the same bareness and vulnerability Jesus did in order for us to experience the new life He brings.

Winter always precedes spring and spring always brings the emergence of new life. The new growth can only flourish if the old has been shed.

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation: the old things passed away; behold, new things have come” (2 Corinthians 5:17 ).