“The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes from the summer cottons into its winter wools.”― Henry Beston
Thursday was an awakening. I was the first one up while it was still dark. After a rare full night of sleep, the coffee tasted more delicious than usual. I settled into the worn corner of my couch, sipping from my favorite mug, shaking the sleep from my bones but not before I stuck my head out the back door to sniff the snow in the air.
Claire and I were supposed to head to Colorado Springs to tour a university. I was relieved when she woke up, saw the dumping snow, and shook her head “No”. My plans don’t usually hinge around these early season storms, but this one was different.
She and I quickly changed course and chose to play hooky and head to Boulder for an early showing of Downton Abbey. We settled into our comfy chairs with latte and popcorn in hand – an early lunch of the best kind.
The movie did not disappoint. The television production was delightful and the big screen just made everything better. Of the five of us in the theater, I apparently made the most noise. My emotions evident in my bursts of laughter and concern. Claire considers it her job to keep me informed of these things.
We changed our plans for the day, and this shift did not disappoint.
I love our Colorado weather and snow in October is not a surprise. We will have our brief taste of winter, but in a matter of we’ll be right back into our comfortable fall temperatures.
I changed out my winter and summer clothes earlier this week in anticipation of the weather event. It’s always tough to bid farewell to the carefree. The freedom of leaving the house without mittens and hats and socks is packed away with the shorts and tank tops and flip flops. But once I make the decision to wear my cool weather gear, I don’t look back. I might be sweaty, but I’m resolved.
Switching gears is hard work. And while the change of seasons feeds my soul and wakes me up in new ways, these changes aren’t easy. There are always adjustments, some welcome and some not – fireplaces and hot cider versus icy roads and frozen pipes.
Change is hard, but it’s what we’re built for. The best humans are the changed humans. The most interesting humans are the ones who willingly or unwillingly have had to adjust. We have this notion that we’re supposed to reach a point of arrival. I think we reach points of rest and renewal, but we’re never built for arrival, at least, not on this side of eternity.
I hope we listen for the winds of change, reminded of the Holy Spirit’s flow in and through our lives, bodies, homes, and communities. I pray we remain pliable and hopeful, awaiting the inevitable winds that will blow. I pray we hold a resolute stance of trusting, seeking. I pray we experience new hope conjoined with emerging joy that always accompanies the good work of change.
And as the snow melts and the temperatures rise, I might go and get my shorts from storage. But more than likely I’ll just wear the wool sweater. I’ll be sweating, but I won’t complain, because I know I don’t always have to be comfortable.