Wandered up the stairs cold and only getting colder after leaving the warmth of the down comforters on the bed. The dogs out in the cold fall rain and I look across the marsh and see cattails that have burst into fluff and the colors of golden browns are soaked in as I wonder how long it will be until I open that door and see the marsh blanketed in a layer of frost.
I know we have had frost already several times because I have seen it in the driveway and on the car, but there is something special about seeing the dead covered anew. When that virgin blanket of snow falls for the first time each year and I love to hate it and hate to love it I know that spring is only a few short months ahead.
Jesus was the fall. Our autumnal abundance harvested just right.
He knew that in order for there to be life that there had to be sacrifice through His death. He knew He had to be a fallen leaf lying on the bitter-cold ground and He knew that the snow had to fly and that all of that mess would melt away in the spring with the rising of the Son.
Because, you can’t have new life if the old one carries on. If a tree never lost it’s leaves there would be no room for growth.
So while Jesus life represents the seasons and the needs we have this seasonal reminder is really filled with hope!
The winter months will pull us inside and together, for love, for meals and warmth. For belly laughs and board games played with our own sets of rules. Hot chocolate will be made and made again and again and apple cider with cinnamon sticks will be a fragrant (and tasty) reminder of the crisp apples that will blossom and grow in the seasons to come.
Throw cushions and blankets will be lovingly folded and placed on the couches and we will bend down a million times to pick them from the floor.
As a mama the monotony of it all will grow old fast yet I know that at the end of each day I will pull out my planner and my journal and write down the days gifts because there is a gift in everything if you look hard enough and instead of counting to 1000 I know that I will be in the millions come the end of my life. A million little things, a million blessings that most overlook and the only regret I have is that I didn’t start counting sooner, that I didn’t praise the Lord for each diaper changed, the hiccups in the night, the overtired toddler saying no to everything, the wails and crying fits in stores over senseless things that made perfect sense to the toddlers eyes.
When we count our blessings and count them all, it is hard to not see the silver lining in every moment and while I may write in my journal or blog each day, I know that He is the Author of my life!
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