Fall

This afternoon the clouds lifted after a night of blessed rain. There is a chill in there, as there should be as we close out the first week of October. As the clouds began to lift, the yellow aspens in the Sangre de Cristo mountains were obvious in the spotty sunshine. And there, above them, was the first snow of the year, softly coating the pine trees, and shining bright on the ski runs above Santa Fe.

The first snow of the year always makes me sentimental, or nostalgic, or melancholy. It reminds me that time is passing. It calls to mind the coming of winter, the drawing into the warmth of home against the cold and dark. And that reminds me that time has already passed, and the little ones drawing near my hearth and making my home warm are now making homes of their own. I age. The world ages. There is a constancy about this changing of seasons, but also interposed on that comforting routine is something slightly sad. I feel the truth of Isaiah's words, somehow... the grass withers, the flower fades... and I can relate to the withering and the fading.

But Isaiah's words don't end there. He ends with the thought that while we wither and fade, the Word of our God stands forever. That's a thought to hold you through winter and help you hope for Spring.