Beth and I went for a foliage ride on Thursday, up to northern New Hampshire and then over into Vermont.
The foliage doesn’t seem quite as spectacular this year, but it was pretty enough to remind us that we serve a good God who opens His hands and satisfies the desires of every living thing.
It also reminded me of my own changes. I can’t work in the yard all day long or jump down from the rock on the mountain trail. The house isn’t full of the kids and their friends like it once was. The kids and their friends have all gone off to live their own lives.
Spring turns into summer, and summer into fall, and my own foliage, or what’s left of it, has become as snowy white as December. “To everything there is a season,” says The Preacher in Ecclesiastes chapter 3, and fall serves as a good reminder that “man is going to his eternal home.”
But then fall can also serve to remind us of him who “was declared to be the Son of God in power according to the Spirit of holiness by his resurrection from the dead, Jesus Christ our Lord.” (Rom. 1:4) Yes, it seems we’re not getting any younger. But as we decrease, he increases.
All we have to do is turn to him. Fall is the season of change. We have such a season, too. It’s called repentance. Those who turn to him are changed. They are restored to their right minds and to blessedness. They find their footing again.
Do we have fears and anxieties? Are we weak and heavy-laden? What a joy it is to turn and see Him in His heavenly glory. He is the Lamb that was slain for our sake. His love was so great that he laid down His life for His friends.
He is the Good Shepherd. “If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture.” (John 10:9) Saved from what? From being worn down by the cares of the world. From the fear of what will come, even when it seems our season is passing us by.
The fall colors are like the colors of his heavenly glory, only seen in a glass darkly. Winter is coming, but so is a tiny little baby. He was born so that we might have peace and joy.
