Fall is definitely here. The colors are changing but slower than last year. Peak season is next weekend and unless we get a killer frost before then, leaf peepers will be scarce and disappointed. Without the vibrant colors Fall is just the erasing of warm temperatures. It's the splendor in the dying that makes the cold approachable.
Sunlight streams onto my side and around my shoulders. I lean into it as I write to draw all the warmth it can give me. The chill I feel is internal, so I still shiver.
There is beauty in dying when we realize it is the only way to life. No alternative route, no shortcut will do. Freedom cannot fully exist without dying to all that imprisons you. I can't fully enjoy the warmth if inside I'm still cold.
The surrender of me to God's will must be all, inside and out. Until it is, I will be displayed like a delayed season, here but not quite as beautiful as I can be; righteous in God's eyes, yet never quite revealing that righteousness. Life was given to be eternal. Sin brought death, but God in His redeeming love through Christ made death to be a beautiful thing.
I feel the sun shift and I lean in closer so it covers more of me. I feel the chill less now. As I draw closer to God I see His life more a desire and my dying a radiant thing. And the cold is more bearable.
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