It’s the gentle heat that blows out of the vent, across my feet as I do dishes. It’s the look of the half dead impatiens in the window box outside of my kitchen window, yellowed, weak, but trying to look brave. It’s the few leaves that cling to nearly empty branches, holding on for dear life.
It’s my feet in my clogs instead of my flip-flops. It’s my black fleece jacket I slip on soft because I am chilled. The tender way a close friend says my name. The words to a song.
They all – together, not one on its own -- bring back memories for me this month, memories of difficult times, and I will admit -- it is hard. I love fall, but it also carries along with it sorrow.I heard it said recently that memories know no time.
I think it’s true.
In an unexpected moment we remember something from our past, not begrudgingly, but honestly, regardless of whether it has been days, weeks, months or years.Memories are enigmas to me.
They are so incredibly tangible and yet mysteriously untouchable. Present in the present, and yet from the past.I try to reach out and grab hold of them, either to embrace them or push them away.
And I cannot do either.They slip away, like the fine mist outside, and yet, they are all around me, touching my skin, striking my heart.
And although they can sometimes be difficult to face, I think in a very hope-filled, God graced way, they can be valuable.At least that’s how I’m trying to look at them this month.
I’m trying to face them, lean in to them, and take them to the Lord.And I’m asking Him to remind me of –
Who He is --
What He taught me --
How He provided for me --The ways in which He loved me, loves me --
And where He has brought me -- today.
Hoping, trusting, that somehow – He is still bringing beauty.