The woods around me speak of it, littering the trail with signs: acorns, oak apples, crisp leaves, yellowed and curled. The collector in me won't let them lie still, but must look for acorns still with their caps, or shiny fat round ones with interesting colors of yellow and brown. Even the oak apples are not safe. When I was young I used to worry they were full of bugs, but I found a couple of perfect ones.
My spirit longs for the change. I'm weary of hot summer days, of staring at my computer screen and nothing coming to mind. I need change, the Holy Spirit moving in me like a brisk fall wind, stirring me up, calling me forth.
I love Fall, a season of rich harvest, of icy mornings and hot afternoons, of tea and juice, rich with fruit and nuts and seeds, a time of nourishment and death, a time between. Fall is a season of change, and my heart longs to change with it. I want to die to my current state of lethergy, of sadness, of being mired and stagnant, and gallop across the golden grass of the hills, run through the falling leaves, sail with the "wish" seeds, bits of fluff of milkweed, blown to find new soil for their seeds.
I want, O Lord, my writing to change with me, to bring forth harvest, to blow with new life, to let things die and be reborn. I want to feel that life within me, the life that flows through the season, and flow with it, feel alive, feel young, and pour out everything within me in a glorious outpouring all of nature in preparation for a time of cold. Bless my desire for change and help me change my life to flow closer to you.
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