34 "Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. (Matt. 6:34 ESV)
I used to hate Autumn. Almost as much as I despised Winter.
When the leaves started to turn bright and fall from their twigs, I knew that soon the limbs would be empty and deadish. And it made me sad.
When the temperatures started to drop (after the temporary glory of Indian Summer,) I knew that while jackets were now almost necessary, soon the bitter blasts of icy breezes would force stocking caps and gloves onto my shivering extremities.
When the sun shuddered upward with an ever more lazy slowness, I knew that soon the daylight would become weak. And brief. And almost useless.
Autumn was the foretaste of dreaded Winter. And I hated it.
But recently I have changed my mind. I discovered that my eyes were focused too far ahead. Autumn does indeed mean that Winter is Coming… but it’s not here yet.
And Autumn has beauties astounding.
Those brightly colored leaves, while perhaps the tree’s last hoorah before sleep, are an optical giggle that makes the heady heat of summer seem pale and dull.
The cooler temperatures allow walks without shielding shade, bacca ball in the backyard without sunburn, and picnics that don’t bring ants, or warmed watermelon, or even hastily soured mayonnaise.
And the falsely shortened day… makes it easier to fall asleep. And oh, how I like sleep!
So this year, I don’t mind autumn.
It’s a gift. And I would be foolish to push quickly through the first present under the (soon arriving!) Christmas tree, just because there is another gift still to come.