Bit by the autumn love bug.
I can't blame it all on autumn, but the fact is, Friday was the first day of fall and Saturday morning I could feel it. The wistfulness of fall. The happiness of cool mornings, colorful scarves, pumpkin spice. The hope of . . . something new.
Funny how winter is all about death and darkness, but I always see fall as the coming of all things cozy and romantic.
Like big band music or Michael O'Brien's Something About Us love song album.
Long sweaters.
Apple crisp, apple pie, apple cider, Apple Hill.
My friend sent me a Scripture today. "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope."
Our hope is so much more than circumstance-based.
And sometimes I get so focused on someone I think I want--John Yates of Faith Bible Institute says, "the object of our desires becomes the focus of our hearts."
But what does a focused lens do? What does the sun do when it narrows in on a magnifying glass? It sets fire to the leaf underneath it, or so I'm told. It destroys.
I love autumn. I love romance. I love the hope of something new, something more.
I know well the mesmerizing agony of making an unattainable human the object of my desires.
Is it sin? I cannot say beyond how God convicts me. Not for all people at every time, otherwise how on earth would anyone ever get married? (but not via the inordinate, idolatry kind of desiring!)
But there is a time to step back from the magnifying glass, gaze at the falling leaves around, feel the surge of romance in the chilly air, set your face to the warmth of the light, and say, "You are my God and You alone. With You is the fountain of life. At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore."
And go forth and enjoy the season.
And maybe, if you feel the freedom to do so, breathe in the hope of the unknown too.
No comments:
Post a Comment