In Georgia the trees are finally turning shades of red.
Fallen leaves are covering yards, birds are quieting, and the wind is slowly bringing in chilled air.
The fall atmosphere has settled, and I’m starting to feel a little less crazy for listening to Christmas music this early (yes… I’m that person).
Evidence is all around that the season has changed.
This past week as I reflected on how CGA has been, I realized I am in a similar season of change.
The truth is, I have been in a time of letting go and giving to God what isn’t mine.
Letting go of things from the past, releasing mentalities I had about myself and others, and giving back to my Loving Father people and dreams I had put my hope in.
Maybe you’re also in a similar season now. Maybe you’ve been in a similar season before.
But in our seasons of letting go, we often times fail to see the beauty of it all.
We ask ourselves:
Where is the fruit?
When will I feel hope and joy?
How is this any good for me?
I’ve spent countless moments these past two months walking in Georgia’s forests asking myself and God these exact questions. With the changed season, my Father began to answer:
Dear, there will be fruit,
I am your hope and joy,
and there is a reason for this.
I am making something beautiful.
I remember hearing these words and looking up towards a towering tree with bright yellow leaves.
I find it funny how effortlessly we see the beauty in the dying leaves changing colors and falling to the ground; the branches letting go of what they can’t hold onto anymore.
We see beauty in the midst of bitter winter when the whole tree is prominent without the covering of its leaves. Its strength and shape is easily observed. It grows another layer around itself in sturdiness and becomes even more deeply rooted.
Come spring, the joy of new life floods the air. There is hope from the leaves budding and growing on the once bare branches. Fresh leaves take the place of the ones left behind in the fall.
It’s so easy for us to see the beauty in nature’s seasons, but yet so hard for us to recognize the goodness of the seasons we are facing in our own lives.
There is such an overwhelming feeling when you let go of holding what is not good for you and not yours and, instead, grasp onto the Lover of Your Soul.
Being completely stripped away of what got in the way brings deeper rooting into our true source. In time, it brings a revival of new fruit that only could have been grown if the old fruit was left behind.
When you’re in the middle of a difficult season, I know it’s hard to believe anything good could come from it.
But remember:
there will be fruit,
He is our hope and joy,
and there is a reason for all of this.
God is making something beautiful out of this.
“The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to…
…provide for those who grieve in Zion–
to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,
the oil of joy instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.”
Isaiah 61: 1,3
