The hills are turning every shade of fire this weekend, and when I think about what it really means for the trees, my spirit offers up hushed that only God could make the dying beautiful. With Autumn’s declaration splashed lavish across the hillsides, two young people celebrate how He brought them out of broken places to start a new life together….a weary joyful saint leaves behind a chrysalis and steps transformed into immortality….a whole family gives thanks for the awakening miracle of love in a child’s wounded heart….the Holy Wind blowing life into all these dry bones. And I see how we are all only dust, lit up with Your glory. We are the clay in Your potter’s hands from the first day till the last, held fast and loved beyond measure. The colors of autumn paint us their yearly reminder that everything fades but what is in You: all this dust turning to dust, and all of us becoming beautiful in the light of Your grace, empty hands held up toward the sky.
“As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. The life of mortals is like grass, they flourish like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more. But from everlasting to everlasting the Lord’s love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children’s children…” (Psalm 103:13-17)
“Do not be thinking of how little you have to bring to God, but of how much he wants to give you. Just place yourself before, and look up into, His face; think of His love, His wonderful, tender, pitying love. Just tell Him how sinful and cold and dark it all is: it is the Father’s loving heart that will give light and warmth to yours.” (Andrew Murray)