Autumnal Hope

“The seasons are a sort of disease all young poets have, it seems,” the teacher says to Emily in L.M. Montgomery’s “Emily of New Moon.”

This makes two weeks in a row that I am referencing nature, but it is hard not to during such a beautiful Fall.

Why did the Lord make the dying leaves beautiful?

If death is the last enemy to be destroyed, why is this particular death beautiful?

The golds, the crimsons, the burnt oranges shine in stark contrast with other autumnal deaths- the butchering of the hogs and chickens, the fading of the hours of daylight.

Fall foliage actually attracts onlookers and inspires decor, poems, and flavors indicative of the season.

I believe God made the dying leaves beautiful because of the promise of resurrection. This leaf will die, but no matter how frigid and dark the winter, a bud will appear in Spring that will give birth to new leaves that will take its place and nourish the tree.

The beauty of Fall is a promise of Spring that we carry in coat pockets all winter long.

Perhaps that’s what Peter meant when he wrote, “Set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”

After helping a family member sort through Hospice paperwork and watching Hospice caretaker help videos, my takeaway was to think what an ugly thing death is.

It’s emotionally hard, physically hard, financially hard, and relationally hard.

Several years ago, when my grandmother was on Hospice, I remember one very taxing day. My grandfather was explosive. My mom and uncle were exhausted. My grandmother was uncomfortable.

But the Hospice worker sailed into the room with lavender scented lotion and a smile.

“I know what you need,” she said to my grandmother… “a massage.”

As soon as she opened the lotion, the scent of crushed lavender leaves filled the room. Everyone inhaled and then exhaled slowly. It seemed that we had been holding our breaths.

The worker sat at the foot of the bed and rubbed Nan’s feet, her legs, her hands, her neck, and her arms with the lotion. She was not afraid of jarring her or hurting her like we had been.

Death was still there lingering, but so was love. Death was right around the corner, but so was everlasting life.

Nan’s eyes fluttered open. “I’ll be waiting for you at the gate,” she said to me.

“Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of His saints.”

As I walk through the Autumn woods now, I watch a golden leaf flutter to the ground. It is beautiful, captivating. It is the dying of one season, one leaf, one organism created by God. But, it is also a promise of Spring, a promise of new life that will not be snuffed out by any amount of snow or frigid temps. (-62 F here one winter!).

Praise the Lord that He makes everything beautiful in His time. Praise the Lord for inviting us to life after death. Praise the Lord for the comfort of knowing eternity is a sure thing when we rest in Him.