Monthly Archives: November 2012

This day started like many other Sundays. I got up and quietly snuck out of the house to go to early church service. Afterwards I made my normal quick stop at the grocery store before heading back home to a houseful of kiddos. While checking out I struck up a conversation with the older gentlemen who was bagging my groceries. I have exchanged small conversations with him before, he is always friendly and sweet. This morning, however, I learned several wonderful things about him:

He and his wife used to own a restaurant in the mall many years ago – I remember it!

He loved his wife more than anyone! 52 glorious years of marriage to his best friend. Cancer took her from him last August.
He works, not because he needs the money, but because he misses his wife and needs something to do. “It gets lonely in a big ol’ house by yourself.”

He loves his children and is very proud of them and their achievements.

He loves his grandchildren.

In just a few short minutes, this stranger that I cross paths with at least once a week gave me a glimpse of who he was and I fell in love with his life, his story, his passion for the woman he loved so many years and his cheerful heart that is shaded by an emptiness that can’t be filled. If I never see him again in my life, for just a moment he became my friend.

It probably sounds silly I guess but it is moments like these that bring me back to the foundation of what I love about life. I love people and I love stories and every day, everywhere, there is someone who has a story that is waiting to be told. I can’t even begin to fathom what all I miss out on as I run chaotically through my busy days. There are times I lay my head down on my pillow at night and the day was so crammed pack it just seems like a blur.

But some days, just like today, all the busyness stops, and for just a few fleeting moments, a connection is made. A story is shared. A heart is touched. A stranger becomes a friend and life just seems better.

Like trying to hold on to the air,
Vain efforts that flow from a heart that has never been driven by sense.
The melody that moves her isn’t audible to those who watch from a distance,
To them her dance seems awkward ,
In ignorant bliss they judge and walk away,
But her soul knows well there is no other tune that exists.

So she dances, full of hope, led by faith,
Confident that the Master Composer is the creator of her song,
A ballad that resonates with notes of passion, crescendos of joy,
Splashes of color – oh if rainbows had a voice!
The striking of the black and white harmonizing into a beautiful melancholy of gray.

She dances, completely aware of her surroundings,
Constantly battling the ever accusing voice that compels her to stop.
“Sit this one out,” he whispers,
But even in her weariness she cannot deny the desire that presses her on.
Sometimes in her loneliness she cries, “Is there anyone who will dance with me?”
Other times, all alone, she marvels in the touch of the unseen hands that guide her.

Come sunshine and rain, hope and despair, laughter and tears,
There is one thing that is certain,
She will dance.
Until her hearts beats no more,
Until her ears are deafened and the music is silenced,
Until mercy runs away and grace closes the curtain,
Until there is absolutely nothing left inside,
She will dance….

Autumn seems to tickle the senses in a way that no other season does. The vibrant colors that paint the landscape, the crispy aroma that fills the air, the crunching sounds of leaves as our dog frolics around in the backyard. The coolness of the air that teases us to cover up. I truly love this time of year.

I was lying in my bed a few mornings ago listening to the small drizzle of rain and looking out the window at the leaves that were falling from the trees like snowflakes. One by one from various places all over the tree they would seem to gently let go as they allowed the wind to catch them and take them wherever it pleased. A plethora of questions came rushing into my mind:

How did each leaf know when it was their time to let go? The branch they had clung too for months had given them life. It had been their home, the place where they grew and thrived. How comfortable it must have felt to be a part of this branch. The spring rain and the summer sun had beaten down upon them numerous times as they clung tightly to their life source. Storms had come and threatened their existence, yet up until this moment, they had held on.

What about this very moment made the difference?

Were they satisfied that they had fulfilled their destiny and with confidence gently loosened their grip to fall trustingly into the open wind?

Were they curious of what it would be like to be independent from this old tree and boisterously flung themselves loose into the great wide open?

Had the storms of summer weakened their resistance and they could no longer sustain against the gust of wind that was tugging at them with persistence?

Perhaps they were simply tired of holding on, knowing the inevitable winter was coming so they just gave in to the season that embraced them.

As I laid there and watched these leaves, I saw myself in their plight. I heard my symphony as they danced with the wind. I realized that every question of reason was shouting from within my being. Autumn had come and set up residence in my heart many months ago,bringing so many changes my way:

Some were welcomed and I felt no apprehensions as I chose to follow their lead.

Some had tickled my curiosity and, like a child with no reason, I had pursued hard after them.

Some had come at me like a whirlwind, pounding against my resistance, beckoning me to give in and to loosen my grip.

And some were still lingering, with weary hands and a worn out grip, I find myself clinging to the threads of a fading hope, knowing with dreadful apprehension that if I did find the courage to let go, then winter would surely come and bring death to the once beautiful things I cherished.

Life, with all her uncertainties possesses a surety in the cycles. Autumn will give way to winter and the cold will come with death in her bosom. Just when you think that you can’t take another day, spring will burst forth with her promise of life anew. Summer will follow with her warm embrace, but ah don’t get too comfortable. Once again the kiss of Autumn will paint her colors before us and sing her song of letting go.

I laid there shaken by the thoughts that consumed me. If I were the leave, oh Lord, what comes after I fall? In a moment of clarity, the answer came bringing yet another life lesson. I am not the leaf whose destiny is the hands of changing seasons. I am the branch that is attached to the life giving tree. Jesus tells his disciples in John 15:5 that He is the vine (tree) and they are the branches. As long as they abide – live in and through Him – they will produce much fruit. Apart from Him, they can do nothing. So yes, as sure as the seasons come and go, there will be times in my life that I blossom with the new, times that I bend and shake in the storms, and I will inevitably face those moments that I must let go of the things that are dying. It will all come to pass, but my security lies in the source of life that I am attached too. Regardless of what comes my way, if I remain intact, living and abiding in the tree, then I will grow stronger with each passing season.

John 15:5 – I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me, you can do nothing.