Summer and winter and springtime and harvest,Great is Thy Faithfulness (Thomas Chisholm, 1923)
sun, moon, and stars in their courses above
join with all nature in manifold witness
to thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.
In some places fall comes in a rush, burns brilliantly for a spectacular week or so, then quickly fades into the grays of winter. In others – namely Wake Forest – the foliage seems to take turns, just a few trees here and there, taking six to eight weeks for all the leaves to turn then fall.
Consequently this post-Thanksgiving week has offered a new blush of color as most of the remaining holdouts take their turn, put on their Sunday best, and invite admiration.
As I reflect on the past few weeks, thinking about my dad’s inexorable shift from life toward his final days and on into the life to come, this new splash of vibrant color feels timely and insightful. There is such assurance in the coming of the seasons, and such promise carried forward from the brilliance of fall, through the hushed tones of winter, and into the rebirth of latent life that marks spring.
“As long as the earth endures,Genesis 8:22
seedtime and harvest,
cold and heat,
summer and winter,
day and night
will never cease.”
So I grabbed my camera and – apart from one image of a tree from my morning walk – stayed inside our property to capture a few photographs of the Silver (I think) Maple, several Japanese Maples, and the beautiful carpet of leaves on the ground.
It’s just so difficult to remain indoors on days like this. Maybe 40-degrees in the morning, sunshine all day getting up to around 60-62 in the afternoon. Sitting out on the deck for coffee; extra walks with Max because it is just so good to be out in the neighborhood and the park; meandering through the garden making plans; just breathing everything in; grateful.
Summer and winter and springtime and harvest; sun, moon, and stars in their courses above join with all nature in manifold witness, to God’s great faithfulness, mercy, and love.
In love, and because love and promise sustain us – DEREK
I’ve walked this walk—at 15 for my dad and 48 for my mother. Your heart felt expressions and seasonal pictures of ebbing life in nature are on point as I remember my days of mourning. Prayers of thanksgiving for you and your family Ann
LikeLiked by 1 person