The Autumnal Landscape

I am not a gardener.
I am not a seamstress.
I can maintain my plantings.
I can mend a few things.

I am always amazed at people who can plant seeds in the dirt and produce an abundance.
I am always intrigued with people who can see a bolt of fabric and know what it will become.
I am not that person.
I can take words and mix them all around to tell a story but that is another matter.

It is the fact that I am not a gardener that I thought of as I came back from my walk.
I looked at the landscaping that is around my house and I marveled.
Each of the plants will go through the seasons.
Each of the plants have a different look during each season.

That difference, the change in color most especially, is breathtaking.
I looked at my hydrangeas that have large balls of color throughout the summer.
Now each of those balls are still on the bush but they are brown.
The leaves are wilted.

The woman that organically fertilizes and treats our lawn does our spring clean-up.
She would do fall clean-up as well but I have never asked her to do that for us.
The autumnal landscape has its own beauty.
What someone may see as dead, I see as sleeping.

I looked at the autumnal landscape.
I wasn’t remembering how it was as much as I was enjoying how it is.
I thought about the fact that each of the bushes, though vastly different, have a purpose.
Each of those branches, though brown, will soon hold Christmas lights.

If I had fall clean-up done there would be less branches to string the little white lights.
I looked at the bushes and marveled.
What looks so dull and lifeless will soon shine.
What looks spindly and forlorn will soon be aglow with light.

It is one of my favorite days of the year.
The day after Thanksgiving is the day we decorate for Christmas.
When all the children were home, everyone had their job.
Many hands made for light work.

Even today though my older four are no longer at home, they still love to decorate.
It is the perfect weekend to do it since everyone is home.
It is my husband and sons that handle the outside lights.
They each have their sections that they tackle by themselves.

Somehow, it all comes together.
Each does his part.
When each section meets the other, there is continuity.
It is teamwork at its finest.

My younger son adds his creative touch.
He will meticulously wrap the trunk of the tree in front of the living room window.
He goes up into the lower branches.
It is so lovely when dark comes and the lights go on.

My older son likes to illuminate the bell post that holds the cast iron bell.
He always enjoyed ringing it so it makes sense that he enjoys making it shine.
My husband brings his engineering practicality to the light placement.
Somehow, it blends; each personality stays unique yet enhances the other.

Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts. When the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the custom of the Law required, Simeon took Him in his arms and praised God saying, “Sovereign Lord, as You have promised, You now dismiss You servant in peace. For my eyes have seen Your salvation, which You have prepared in the sight of all people, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to Your people Israel.” The child’s father and mother marveled at what was said about Him. Then Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, His mother, “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul, too. (Luke 2:25-35)

Jesus was a light to the Gentiles.
Jesus is the Light of the World.
Jesus illuminates and reveals our heart.
What is lifeless and wilted is merely sleeping.

In Jesus’ hands, what is dead will come to life.
The autumnal landscape of our lives will burst forth with springtime beauty.
Satan, like the White Witch of Narnia, wants it to be always winter and never Christmas.
Satan hates Christmas since the Light was born and continues to shine.

There is beauty in the autumnal seasons of our life.
It is hidden beauty that only God can see.
It is sleeping beauty ready to be awakened
With the Light of Jesus shining on every branch, there is exquisite beauty.

We are His branches.
We may appear lifeless and wilted, but not for long.
Jesus envelops us in His Light.
Oh, the beauty of the autumn as it waits for spring.

Are you in hibernation?
Are you lifeless and wilted thinking that you have nothing to offer?
You are mistaken.
No one is beyond the Light of Jesus.

Before you clean-up and throw away the fall debris, put it in Jesus’ hands.
There is beauty in the autumnal landscape that only God can see.
There really is.
Do you trust Him to illuminate and bring beauty out of the ashes?