Walking across the yard, my feet make a quiet rustle, a sort of rhythm as they fall upon a rainbow of color. This rainbow having ensued from a multitude of trees each carpeting the ground with their own unique leaves. Some of the leaves are colorless and brown. Others, still clinging to life, yet fading in vivacity as they go from a pale green, to a yellow, then a red.
I see Change, clothed with all her terror and glory, staring back at me. All of beauty seems to run from her. The spirit of life now rapidly withdrawing into sleep like a fading bloom. Death in all it's terror seems to linger and a shiver crawls up my frame from a blast of wind blowing across the lake. "Yes, winter is quickly approaching," I whisper to myself.
I struggle for clearer vision, ripping away the cobwebs of unbelief clouding my brain. Oh you have such little faith, can you not rejoice that your Maker can bring newness of life from death, from winter?
Oh God, I say that I believe You are sovereign, yet the hypocrite that I am denies Your hold and control on the courses of weather by my disgruntled heart. You made winter, and You find it lovely.
Meghan, trust. Faith always responds with gratitude for all things.
The daily battle of keeping my heart, of examining it, mortifying its fleshly desires, rages on. I search my own spirit, there knowing that I will find my lack of trust to be so much bigger than my dislike of freezing temperatures. The weed had rooted itself deep. It seems easy for me to move on and simply pluck the green bud of sin peeping it's head above, yet I know the roots. The roots of not embracing all things He provides for me.
I look all around me and see His unchanging nature by the constant change of nature which He produces. It pierces my heart as I see His heart, and find the failings of my own. I gain a glimpse of how He sees my wretchedness and I abhor myself for the flaws within me. My flaws keeping me from doing the one thing I've been created to do. To glorify and enjoy You. Father, You've punished Christ for all of these flaws, and now I come claiming forgiveness through the sacrifice of that perfect Lamb.
I believe, help my unbelief!
The wind continues to pound it's chilling breaths upon me. My fingertips become numb, then my nose, then my feet. Rapidly all around me turns dark, the sun having gone completely behind the trees. Yet as the clear image of colorful leaves and tree limbs gradually becoming bare, result into a silhouette against the night sky, my Maker I can still see. Sustaining, nurturing, comforting all of creation.
Walking towards the back door of the house, I pause one last time and feel almost frozen to the bone.
Yet the murmuring of my heart is quieted. For I look up into the budding array of glitter in the night sky and this time death doesn't glare back at me... His sovereignty in all it's glory does.
He grants me arms of faith and I embrace the beauty of change. My pulse quickens as my soul leaps forth in praise.
And then He floods me with grace and my heart is made warm.
