Fallen Leaves

This weekend in my hometown, autumn was in full force as half-bare trees stood like statues in the chilly air.  Every year yellow, red, and green leaves fall from their branches and leave only the trunk and its naked branches starkly exposed.  It's a pattern, a cycle.

As I look back on recent years, it seems this same process has taken place in my life each autumn since I started college.  Some years the shedding of leaves has seemed more manageable and bearable, and others it has felt the leaves were ruthlessly ripped from the branches to which they clung.

When the leaves hit the ground, standing up strong is the tree itself.  The trunk, the branches.  The framework on which all the rest of life hangs.  No matter what I have or don't have, God still stands.  He's constant, and He's strong.  I feel bare and confused now, but He's teaching me something. God is developing something in me so that when spring finally comes I will blossom and bear fruit, hopefully more than before.

Psalm 74:16-17 (Message) You own the day, you own the night; you put stars and sun in place. You laid out the four corners of earth, shaped the seasons of summer and winter.