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When Autumn Leaves Start to Fall

Posted by on December 2, 2012

Thirty-one days hath December. Consider this post 1 of 31. I’m challenging myself to share my heart here every day this month in the hopes of honoring Jesus, the Word made flesh to dwell among us, Emmanuel.

I begin with a quote from Passion and Purity by Elisabeth Elliot. I read P&P when I was in college. I was a freshman, and I literally thought I’d be married within the year. To whom, I wasn’t quite sure. I just knew it was supposed to happen that way. So I’m pretty sure I sailed through the book on wild wings of romanticism, completely ignoring the theme of Elliot’s story – that sometimes we are called to make great sacrifices in matters of the heart, but always, God is faithful – and reveling in the juicy details of Elisabeth and Jim Elliot’s love story. I knew that reading it again 15 years later (seriously? 15 years?) would give me a fresh perspective, and my how that perspective has indeed changed. More on that later. For now, the quote:

For those with ears to hear and eyes to see, there will be very great release from unbearable burdens in the language of autumn trees, for example, when they dress most gloriously in preparation for death. The red of the leaves is the sign of the cross. Winter follows, when snow closes everything in frozen silence. The trees then are skeletons, but wonders are being performed under the surface of things. Spring comes, and the hidden wonders burst out all at once – tiny shoots, swelling buds, touches of green and red where all seemed hopeless the day before…If the leaves had not been let go to fall and wither, if the tree had not consented to be a skeleton for many months, there would be no new life rising, no bud, no flower, no fruit, no seed, no new generation.

I cannot tell you just how deeply this resonates with me. I was that tree turned skeleton. I watched as every last leaf burst into color, dried up and fell, and I stood bare and cold, bracing for winter winds. Yet all along, I knew that something new was being birthed in me. Something amazing was growing just beneath the surface, and knowing that helped me stand, even if some days I was only barely managing to stay upright. I’m so grateful to be able to say that over these last few months, Spring has definitely come. I know God’s love and grace in a way I would have never imagined possible. I can think back to those skeleton-tree days now and feel not sorrow, but gratitude and awe.

There is certainly more growth to take place, and I know that as long as I trod this native soil, my life’s seasons will be ever-changing. But for now, I’m reveling. For now, I’m rejoicing. And I’d like you to know that if you’re watching your leaves fall, or if they’ve fallen and the bitter winds are closing in, there is hope. Our God is in the business of resurrection. If we are in Christ, the deaths we experience will always give way to new life. The winter may be long, but the spring will come and you will marvel at His goodness. Perhaps you can give the video below a look/listen and be encouraged.

It is not over, and you are not alone. He is there with you, healing you, growing you, working in you. And He is forever good.

 

 

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