The Weight of Fall



The concept of "fall" is new to me. 
Leaves fluttering to the ground is new to me. 

But the meaning that this season carries is not new to me. 
I look outside and watch my boys raking up thousands of leaves and I can't help but fill up with gratitude. 



 I am grateful for the reminder that these leaves bring. 

 The reminder that I will be able to once again shed off the old to make way for the new. The reminder that I too will have a season of rest before I have to carry more on my branches. 

 I love that God uses His creation to beautifully mimic our lives. 




I love how He effortlessly interweaves his promises and goodness in the subtleties of the trees. 

 That, like the trees, I too have a purpose.

 I too get to hold up the small but many gifts in my life. I get to be rooted for my children. I get to be steady for my husband when life blows it's treacherous winds. I get to lift up my friends and family to the light and warmth of the "Son". 

 I never knew how much I would love trees. 

 Something really impacted me a few weeks ago when looking at the trees. There was an unexpected snow fall one evening, so unexpected that it even caught the trees off guard. What I found amazing about this was how almost all the trees buckled under the pressure of the snow. Some broke, some bent, and some were ripped right out of the ground from the roots. It wasn't the snow that caused this fatal reaction but instead it was the fact that the trees hadn't had a chance to shed their leaves yet. 





















The weight of the snow and the leaves were too much for the trees to bear. 
I realized at that moment, there is a reason why the season of fall is so important to the trees. 

 When they are given the time to prepare themselves, they can take on the snow with great poise and strength, but without that time of rest and release the pressure becomes too much. 

 What a beautiful example of my life! When I see myself like I see these trees I begin to realize just how precious those seasons of rest and release are for me. I look back and see so many times when I carried so much and when asked to release some to God, I would hold on with all I had. But then I would crumble under the pressure. What makes me different from the trees is that I had a way out. I had someone prepared to lift the leaves for me to make way for the impending snow fall. 

 There were so many times, there ARE so many times, when I am convinced that I can carry everything but the problem with this is that I can't predict the weather. I don't know what's coming around the corner to threaten the strength of my branches and the depth of my roots. Sometimes I feel like I can though. 

 Pride has a funny way of lying to me about that. 

 I want so badly to listen. To trust God when he asks for me to shed my leaves but it seems too painful at times. It always costs me something. But I'm learning, slowly, it always costs me something I didn't want to begin with. And I'm learning, slowly, that the fallout of not succumbing to "fall" is far more painful and detrimental. 
The good thing is that my roots aren't planted in the average soil anymore. My roots are planted in a new soil now. A soil that is fed by the cross. And this soil doesn't let it's trees get uprooted. I may bend, I may break off every single branch, but unlike those trees in my yard, my roots will hold fast. No matter how many times I don't listen, no many how many times I forget to let go, I will continue to stand. 

 So I'm grateful for the fall. 

 I'm grateful that I've been moved to a place where I can see the leaves fall and the snow blanket the trees. 

 And I'm grateful for deep roots, good soil, and the promise that the cross will never let me go. 

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