oh autumn

I can't figure out why this season's change is making me anxious. In the past few years, this time of year has captivated me. I watch each tree, each color. See how the landscape opens up, wide and vast, as the leaves slowly disappear. The sun shifts to an angle, and all of the shadows fall differently. All of the classic, cliche "fall" stuff. Even people in sunny south Florida (sorry friends) try to pretend that they feel a change. We just want it so bad. We want a reprieve from the heat. From the long, hot days often filled with hard work. Ready for change...

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;

Why am I so hesitant? Maybe my apprehension has a little to do with the feeling of impending doom. Last year, for instance, our mild fall gave way to a seeming eternal winter rivaled only by Narnia itself. We spent several weeks literally snowed in. We huddled around the wood stove and knocked ice of the inside of the windows. We lit kerosene lamps and tried in vain to get signal on the wind-up radio. We towed cars out of snow banks and sledded until the hypothermia set in. So, yes. Perhaps I can't help but see the reds and yellows as a precursor to...white.

a time to kill and a time to heal; a time to break down and a time to build up;

Maybe it's also because I feel like it's happening too fast. I was sick for all of last week, and only walked as far as the kitchen to the living room, and back to the bedroom. I was not aware of much beyond my own misery. So, when I stepped out yesterday and saw it happening...

I almost panicked. Wait, wait! Not yet! Not quite so fast. Even in the moment, I was kicking myself for not simply enjoying it...not drinking it all in. I was begrudging the change and feeling like it would all be gone tomorrow. And not to be melodramatic, but I feel like it almost is. The wind is blowing like crazy out there and taking down tree-fulls of leaves with every gust. Soon, the trees will all be bare.

a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance;

I completely recognize that something within me needs to still. Why do I feel like I'm being thrust forward so?

a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

Maybe it's the parallel with our situation. The farming season has come to an end, and it's time to look elsewhere for winter work. Our home situation is suddenly not as long-term as we had originally hoped and planned on. So, once again...again...we look beyond to what's next.

a time to seek and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

My kids are growing, and I think it's scaring me. I know. I know. I know. I know that after just a few more falls and winters, they won't be my little ones any more.

With my oldest boy being 8 years old now, I am starting to see how this is going to go. His reasoning, his comprehension, his reading, his deductions, his sense of humor....wait-stop-slow down! It feels too soon.

I love winter, but I'm just not ready yet. I know we need to move along, but I'm not ready. I know my kids will grow up, but I'm just not ready.

a time to tear and a time to sew;

I need peace. I crave contentment. I want to be able to sit on the front porch in the sunshine, with a chill in the air...take in my view and breathe...I want to enjoy, truly enjoy my children. (no matter how utterly frustrating and exhausting they can sometimes be...all at once). I want to either settle in to a true home place OR just be okay with nomadism.

a time to keep silent, and a time to speak;

I don't want to fear the future...or the winter.

a time to love and a time to hate;

I want to be grateful for the beauty of change...even if it means a slow death. I want to be grateful for tomorrow. No matter what it looks like or demands from me. I want unshakable peace.

a time for war and a time for peace.