Monday Morning Musings: Of Autumn & Death to Self

It is October now, and the trees have begun to transform into their autumn glory.  It is inevitable, observing the world and reading fall poetry, not to think of death as everything appears to lose color and life for the barren beauty of winter.  And as I watch the trees I cannot help but think to myself: If only we could accept our daily, weekly, yearly deaths with such exquisite grace!  If only we could bow and joyfully, humbly give up the adornments of self, our very selves, and whatever else the Lord may ask.

Can we trust that He bares our branches for His greater glory and the triumph of Spring? Can we trust You shall still consent to walk alongside us in our barren state?  O give me grace to die to myself every day, graceful and obedient as the autumn tree!

A Fare-Thee-Well to Summer

First: happy one hundredth post! God is so faithful!

Now, the true purpose of this post. I've been busy this summer, if you haven't noticed from lack of posts.  Here are a few snapshots of the beautiful and the chaotic:

Vacation to South Carolina with my wonderful family.

Sunrise over the Atlantic

Beach/lighthouse walk between a friend's wedding and reception--one of three this summer!

House by candlelight during a power outage after a storm.

Much-needed (albeit brief) rain.

...Homework....

Many enjoyable road trips and car rides.

Sunrise: Psalm 19

The heavens declare the glory of God;

the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Day after day they pour forth speech;

night after night they display knowledge.

There is no speech or language

where their voice is not heard.

Their voice goes out into all the earth,

their words to the ends of the world.

autumn fool

I believe I read a book once, in which one of the characters remarked something about all young poets being fools in spring; that they couldn't help themselves but to be overwhelmed with the wonder of the season.  If that is so, I am an autumn fool, for I have been writing poetry about autumn ever since I was a child and am still entranced by this annual yet transient splendor.

That said, here are a few glimpses of the beauty I found last week while home for fall break.

Scribblings in a Notebook During Class

September rain plays percussion

On the window, tree-leaves, rooftop, sidewalk;

Within the glass, all just ignore

To doze, daydream, multitask, talk.

Would that I could be outside,

Feel the drumbeats on my head, my skin;

Let the wind blow me around

Like a lonesome leaf driven by whim.

But noisesome typing on keyboards

Drowns out tumultuous rain;

Warm and secure we stay within

That by white-walled learning we might gain.

O cold, capricious gale

Eagerly swirling autumn's hues

Beneath darkened tow'rs of clouds,

Joy and shadow to singularly fuse—

Sweep me away, wild September wind,

To sail through sombre skies,

Laughing irresponsibly

As you bite tears into my eyes.

Revelations from the Wilderness

Day 5 in the Boundary Waters
I have been in a dry place spiritually for many months, seeking God and sometimes (more often than I'd like), doubting Him.  On Thursday, the fifth day of our canoeing and camping trip, God encouraged me with this reminder of His faithfulness; to bring me peace and keep me seeking Him faithfully, too.


Each morning, whether or not we see it through the clouds, the sun rises.
Each evening, as it fades past the horizon, I never doubt that it will rise again to bring us dawn.

Each year, summer is followed by autumn, autumn by winter, and, sooner or later, winter by spring.
Though winter may seem interminable, I never doubt the eventual return of warmth and green.

Whether obscured or clear, I never doubt the presence of the stars in the heavens or the moon cycling around.

How, then, can I doubt the faithfulness of the God who carefully created and controls all these things?

Surely He is much greater than His majestic creation!

trapped in suburbia

In my ache for God I also find myself hungry for beauty.

I am impatient with the concrete and glass, siding and metal and shingles of suburbia; tired of sunsets elusive behind man-made structures and stars washed out by our artificial, never-ending daylight; stifled by the noise and commotion that drive away the peace of silence and stillness and nature-noises.  I want to see beyond the rows of edifices that stretch well past the flat horizon.

God seems easier to find amidst the glory--the raw, untempered beauty--of His creation.  I don't mean to imply that Creation didn't fall, too. I'm not really making any theological statements here; just speaking of my own thoughts and tendencies.  Maybe I just see God more easily in what He made directly.


And when I yearn for God so painfully, it becomes easy, perhaps, to feel trapped within the fences and walls of suburbia.

Bits of Beauty

I love finding beauty and joy in small things.  Sometimes there is more wonder in the unexpected bits of majesty, I think, than the great, though I'm not sure why.

Tuesday a couple of my friends and I went outside and drew on the sidewalk with chalk.  And yes, it was delightful.

Next, one must always revel a bit in early summer grass.  And while a picture is not the same as the experience, perhaps it will remind you to pay more attention next time.

The final picture I found while looking for a new desktop picture (I like variety and change it once per week on average).  I would encourage you to look at it closely, even though you may not want to.  How marvelously intricate!

I know this last one doesn't seem to fit with the others, but just look at this creature for a bit (props to a friend for the photo, btw). Notice his camoflage armor; the perfectly transparent wings.

What a splendid Creator!