Wednesday, October 24, 2012


every seed must die before it grows

autumn.  it always arrives slowly, giving small foreshadowings of itself as the summer sunshine blazes own, sadly (well sadly for me at least) keeping all clouds at bay. then one morning, you wake up and the air has a scent to it.  a sort of pleasant weight, like a down blanket.  it envelopes you in an internal sort of warmth that can only come when there is a back-bite in the breeze: the chill is warming, one of nature’s paradoxes.

the subtle difference in the day is confusing and cloaked in your own disbelief, until late afternoon, when you find yourself in an embrace of amber, a mesmerizing display of shadows accenting every angle of any view.  the light looks delicious, how you long to drink it in.

now breathing has a taste.  your lungs are both filled with crispness and a delicate brush of spices (perhaps it is just the anticipation of pumpkin pie?).  every changing leaf, slowly drained of life, becomes like a spring flower, a returning promise of the beauty our Creator provides to our every moment.

clouds hang around longer, they don’t flee with the dawn.  sometimes they stay all day, giving cause to look up, giving an accent to the sun’s molten hues.  the wind is a consistent feature, smoothing out the earthy scents and bringing with it a velvet touch as it traces its path, across your face, through the branches of the trees.  the leaves dance upon the hints of coming winter.

if you are a melancholy soul (ahem), you find that you are finally home.  perhaps you thought the season of melancholy was winter…not the case.  it is the promise of coming leafless trees, the slow transformation of vibrancy going into hibernation, that is the true seasonal-language of the melancholy.

the fading light of the autumn day, seems to hum a somber tune.  it lays thick in a fuzzy, comforting way, as a last burning ember of a campfire soon to be snuffed out. autumn provides a flood of such examples that there are gifts and great beauty at every stage of existence, even at the dusk of life.

Thursday, October 4, 2012


let no corrupt word proceed out of your mouth, but what is good for necessary edification, that it may impart grace to the hearers
-epheisans 4:29-

recently, a random woman i've never seen before and will likely never see again stopped to pay me a compliment (3 times, same compliment actually, perhaps to fully drive the point home?).  it disarmed me both because i did not know her and because she had no obligation to say anything kind to me at all.

i am sure she didn't think anything of it.  she was just giving her opinion and then our paths parted, and her thoughts on the matter likely dissolved in a sea of more important cognitive matters.  she didn't think anything of paying a compliment, but then how often do i not think anything of not paying someone a compliment when i could?

there must be dozens of observations i make daily when some kind bit of commentary passes through my brain waves, but i keep it silently tucked away in the folds of my thoughts.  mostly because i think "it sounds foolish" or "they might think i'm weird" or "it might be taken the wrong way" or "they might not care if i said it."  how little faith i have in God to do great things through small mediums.

sure, a compliment is not akin to moving mountains, parting the ocean, or calming a storm.  they won't heal cancer, raise the dead, or produce money from the air. but they just might warm one second of one person's day. you don't know what kind of day anyone is having, because you don't live in their head.  but God does...and maybe the kind word of encouragements that surfaces for reasons unknown in your own mind is God's small way of lifting that person's spirit..friend, foe, or complete stranger.