Autumn leaves falling

For as long as I can remember, I've loved Autumn. And not just because it's my birthday. I love range of colors; outside my office window are a few trees that are still green, several that are brown, and red, yellow and purple in between. The true blues of the sky and the golden harvest moon couple with the bright apple greens, yellows and reds and the orange pumpkins. The colors are full and mature, not so naive as springs pastels; instead they're pensive, showing off a summer's life well lived.

The cooler nights and short days are a relief after a hot working summer. The produce is in, the freezer is full, and my cupboards are lined with canning jars showing off their colorful produce. The year is winding down toward the greys and browns of winter, encouraging me to reflect back over this year in thankfulness for what God has provided, and in wondering what produce my year shows.

What have I done with my year? Do I have colorful leaves and fruit to show for my year of hard labors? Can I take joy in the accomplishments of the year? Have I progressed toward my life goals? Have I been the type of mother that I want to be? The type wife that I'll look back someday and be glad I was?

It struck me last weekend how all this flamboyant color is really death coming slowly. And yet it's so beautiful. In reflecting on it, I think that's how we're intended to die: looking back on a life lived fully and rightly, where the truly important things were important even in the day-to-day life. And where the fruit and colors of a life well lived bring glory and praise to the One who created such beauty.

Really, it isn't death. Not for the tree, nor for the believer. It's just a winter's rest.

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