Tomorrow night is our annual Fall Party, and it looks like we’ll be outside! Hooray! I don’t quite remember when we started the Fall Party, but this just might be our 10th year. It’s changed a little here and there over time, but it’s always included lots of pumpkin-themed games, plenty of prizes and candies, and it’s (almost) always involved some caramel apples.
I grew up in Texas, where the summer is HOT and the winter is chilly. The fall was one single day when the wind blew extra hard and all the brown leaves came straight off the pecan trees. So, one of my absolute favorite things about Kansas is the climate. Four seasons! Just as I start to tire of the cold, purple flowers bloom and I know spring is almost here. Just when I can’t take any more pollen in the air, the sun warms the ground and the sprinklers come out. And when I think I can’t stand one more day of sandals and sweat, the trees at the corners of my block get just a hint of gold in their canopies, and I know the landscape is about to be splashed with every warm color on the paint palette.
Of course, these changing seasons lead easily to thoughts of our human fickleness and our God who never changes. But there are other ways God teaches us through the landscapes we live in.
For example, some of us tire quickly of the same old sandwich for lunch, or the same old drive to school or work. We fail to see God at work in the mundane, repetitive details of our lives. It can be hard to remember that God provided that daily bread and the friends you enjoy it with. It’s easy to forget that the consistent time with your kids in the car or driving alone with the worship music cranked up is a treasure we aren’t owed. The crisp fall air can refresh our vision of how we take in not just the trees, but the rest of life around us. He is the giver of every good gift, whether or not we acknowledge it. In this crazy world, only God can change the seasons. In fact, as the Heidelberg Catechism says, “He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven.” The Author of the autumn is working for our good.
Maybe that’s not you. Maybe you prefer a PBJ on wheat every day at noon, or you hug the stability of a routine like my daughter hugs her stuffed puppy every night. But our gracious Father might be reminding you of something, too. With the same brush strokes he uses to wake some of us up, he can gently nudge those of us who don’t like change by showing us just how beautiful change can be. Imagine – he could have the whole world go straight from summer to winter like Granbury, Texas. But instead, in your hometown, he lets sunlight stream through golden leaves, and blows a breeze through crimson branches. It’s indescribable, this gift.
There are so many ways autumn points to God. Our human affections are fickle, yes. No, God never changes. And we can forever give thanks that our great God is always at work, changing us.