Fall has a particular smell. Perhaps they were doing it all along, perhaps they started only recently--neighbors burning wood and leaves. You can smell it the moment you walk out of the house, the heavy, humid air gone now, the crisp, light air of fall carrying this scent into the core of your being, making you happier than you knew possible two days ago when it was 80 degrees and summer.
Fall explodes in your mind and senses. Fall is orange and green and bright, contradiction between cold hands and warm sky. It is bonfires and camping, cold air on your face while your toes blister from being so close to fire and heat. It is football and marching band, screaming and laughing. Fall is sweaters and slippers and the warm blast of heat coming from a heater newly found on the hearth. It is life and death entangled, beauty coming not from new life, but from the slow death and inward motion of the world preparing for winter, yet somehow invigorating those around.
Fall is parks and children laughing and roadside pumpkin stands. It is that first cup of cider or hot chocolate, steaming up glasses, warming hands, seductively sliding down the throat. Fall is air popped popcorn and Macintosh apples, and Macintosh apples are love, a package sent from far away and eagerly anticipated each year as the leaves turn.
Fall is here and it is beautiful.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
wild, radical, scandalous
"Sin has made the basis of things wild and not rational." -Oswald Chambers
I can't help but think about the implications this has for our faith. It cannot be formulas and logic and reason. It must come from the heart, as wild and irrational as sin, the complete giving of yourself to Christ at the expense of everything.
I think I forget this from time to time -- which is to say, every 20 minutes or so. I forget that my faith cannot grow and I cannot be continually formed into a new creation if I am forever trying to "figure out" what God is doing.
There comes a point where I just need to let God do it. A point where I stop analyzing and thinking and considering options. A point where I release my grip on the things that are holding me back, even though I don't understand how that will work or what it will look like.
Another quotation comes to mind: "Faith seeks understanding." Meaning, of course, that faith should precede any attempts to "figure it out." Sometimes you have to take the plunge first and then figure out how it all managed to work out. Because if you never take the plunge in the first place, you drive yourself crazy with possibilities.
Not to mention the fact that you're still standing in the same place when you could be swimming in the cool, refreshing waters of the Father.
I can't help but think about the implications this has for our faith. It cannot be formulas and logic and reason. It must come from the heart, as wild and irrational as sin, the complete giving of yourself to Christ at the expense of everything.
I think I forget this from time to time -- which is to say, every 20 minutes or so. I forget that my faith cannot grow and I cannot be continually formed into a new creation if I am forever trying to "figure out" what God is doing.
There comes a point where I just need to let God do it. A point where I stop analyzing and thinking and considering options. A point where I release my grip on the things that are holding me back, even though I don't understand how that will work or what it will look like.
Another quotation comes to mind: "Faith seeks understanding." Meaning, of course, that faith should precede any attempts to "figure it out." Sometimes you have to take the plunge first and then figure out how it all managed to work out. Because if you never take the plunge in the first place, you drive yourself crazy with possibilities.
Not to mention the fact that you're still standing in the same place when you could be swimming in the cool, refreshing waters of the Father.
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