Lord of Creation,
of color-changing trees,
crisp air,
warm apple pie,
and the breeze that brushes my face,
You have designed this world miraculously.
You have designed this world to spin in such a way
that I get to experience seasons:
the sweaty, sticky summers,
the blustery, cold winters,
the sweet, blooming spring,
and this crisp, cooling season – fall.
This season reflects so much of what I know to be true
about You and this world You’ve created.
It reminds me of Your creativity,
splashing oranges and reds and greens all around me.
It reminds me of Your call to
taste and see that You are good.
It reminds me of the garden that was
and the garden that is to come,
and I’m overwhelmed by the promise.
This season reminds me that you are a God
who can still make something beautiful out of death.
And so, in this season,
may my delight at what I see heighten my sense
that there is still something better to come;
may my moments of rest
restore my soul for another day of doing Your work;
may my preparation for winter
help me create spaces of warmth for me and those I love;
may the adventures I go on
stockpile laughter and joy for the hard seasons.
God, guide me in this season,
and use Your creation to remind me that there is a time to hold on
and a time to let go.
Let go:
of the dead weight
of expectations, schedules, timetables, pressures;
my own pretentiousness and pride;
grudges, fears, feelings of inadequacy;
and to see what You can do with a life laid bare.
So take these moments –
the hikes, walks, drives through forests of colors —
and consecrate them to You,
that they would be holy moments between You and I.