Autumn is such a bittersweet time of year. The world changing color before our eyes. That certain slant of light, tinging the clouds with violet. The smell and crunch of leaves underfoot. Sweaters, and snuggly down comforters and fleece throws on the back of the couch.
And yet, winter waits in the wings. Bare trees. Cold winds. Sleet, ice, and snow.
And darkness. So many hours of darkness.
As the mom of a son with autism, I’ve known my own times of darkness, and they haven’t always coincided with the season of winter. They’ve come in spring, summer, fall and winter.
I’m coming out of one of those times of darkness right now. It’s been a time when anxiety and worry about depression running through the family tree has over-shadowed all of the good things going on in our lives as a family.
As I sit on the kitchen patio this morning, drinking in the cool breeze of this beautiful autumn morning, a memory surfaces. It’s one of those stones of remembrance I go back to again and again when I need to be reminded of God’s faithfulness and love.
It was early morning, a day much like today. I had just dropped my middle son, Justin, off at the golf course to meet his school team. I was in a dark place, much like I’ve been these past few months. Joel had been moved between three different schools as we tried to find the right fit for his anxiety. Behavior was a major issue at school and at home.
And then the Lord gave me a gift as I drove home. The gift of a full moon so gossamer thin it seemed as if the heavens shone right through it. I pulled the car off to the side of the road and wrote a poem on the spot.
Autumn Communion
Wafer thin moon
cradled as host
above burning bushes
Body of Christ
broken for me
Taste!
Eat!
Drink dawn’s mist
sauvignon with subtle
overtones of oak, fortifying
against the chill
of winter
As my spiritual director reminded me the last time we met, the Holy Spirit is with us always. Even in those times of anxiety and depression; even in those times when it feels as if we’re not enough. Even in those times we don’t feel God’s presence.
By giving His life for us, Jesus opened our hearts and poured in the Holy Spirit, who resides with us always. In the beauty of autumn. In the dark of winter. In the new life of spring. In the green heat of summer. In good times and bad, in flooding and drought, in beauty and ashes, in loneliness and community.
Reflection Question: What stone of remembrance do you pull out to remind you of the Lord’s faithfulness when the days are darkened by worry and anxiety; when you are parched and thirsty for God? Write it down in your journal, or speak it to a friend or family member to imprint it more deeply onto your mind and heart.
