Ode to Season III

I have always loved my birthday. But it's not for the typical reasons. I actually dislike getting gifts, and I prefer a good pie to birthday cake any day. In fact, the sole reason I love my birthday is because of the autumn season in which it falls. I love autumn. Everywhere I go, I can taste the sweet spicy odor of the new season. Pumpkin pie. Crunchy leaf piles. Chunky hand-knit scarves. It is the season of quiet expectation, expectation that a new year is just around the corner and that Christmas is coming. There is something about the autumn that soothes my soul and reminds me that things must die before new life can flourish. It reminds me of my need to die to myself as God prepares to mold me and give me a renewed life.

In this spirit, I'd like to confess something I have discovered about myself. I have always been a very loyal person. When I learn to love someone, I love them deeply and wholeheartedly. And when I say "learn to love someone", I mean it takes a lot for me to open up to someone. I don't love readily, and I'm working on this. But more importantly, a wound to my friend hurts me more than a wound to myself. I don't mean this in a spirit of martyrdom; instead, I often struggle with judging other people based on their damaging words to a friend. And while there is a place for righteous anger, I pray that I will not let anyone's past actions taint my image of them. For now, I'm mourning with those who are mourning. And truly, that's all that the Lord asks of me.

"Get up, get out, get away from these liars.
They don't get your soul or your fire.
Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine
And we'll walk from this dark room for the last time."