The Colors of Fall

I love the season of Autumn. I also love the season of Spring. I like Summer, but it gets so hot down here in the mid-south and I tend to stay in doors more than being out, though there is nothing like slipping into a pool or a stream or a lake on a hot summer day. Winter is OK but it's pretty grey in the south and usually white way too long in the north. So, I'm much more connected with Spring and Autumn. I think it's the colors. I love the explosion of flowers in Spring and the trees in Fall.

There is a distinct difference between the northeast region of our country and the southern part of our country when it comes to fall colors. To me (and I stress that this is my opinion), fal colors are brighter and more distinct in the northeast than here in the south, where they tend to be a little more muted. Fall peak hits the north in September whereas it hits here in the south in the middle and latter part of October. 

But here is what I have found, for me, in regards to fall colors in the south: I look for and appreciate the vibrant colors more here in South and North Carolina than I remember doing when I lived in New York and Vermont. I still loved looking and still had moments in the north when I'd go, "Wow!", when pulling around a mountain into a valley and I'd see a quilt of colors, but every valley and every mountain and every street corner tended to consist of deep reds and bright yellows and vibrant oranges.

I just spent two days in the mountains in upper SC and lower NC - part of the Smokie Mountains. The peak season had already passed but there were still a lot of leaves on the trees, at least in the South Carolina part of the mountains. The colors were more brown because of being past peak but it was still pretty (mountains in general impress me, even without leaves). While we hiked the 10 miles on the first day in the middle of Panthertown Forest (?) in Sapphire, NC (Toxaway Lake), most of the trees had already lost their leaves. We crossed over several lovely waterfalls, looked out across some impressive vistas, but generally saw very little in color.

Well, that would be incorrect. I don't know what shifted for me but I did begin to notice patches of trees, or individual trees, that still had some leaves and some of those trees were radiant with color. And if the trees were bare or "dull" in color, I would notice a cluster of weeds with flowers of blue or white or yellow. Or I would come across a stream with leaves of yellow or red floating by, as if they were in a race toward the finish line. It struck me that, if I had continued to look for the grand color scheme of quilted color, I would have missed the little nuances of color and beauty that was, in fact, all around me.

I am like that with God's grace, more often than I realize. I tend to look for the vibrancy of God's blessings in my life, and if I don't see it I wonder why he isn't working or what might be wrong with me that is preventing God from working. But the fact is, God is always working, sometimes vibrantly, but most often in more of a muted way. I don't usually see it because I tend to be focused on the vibrant. I want the spectacular.

One day some religious leaders came to Jesus and asked him, “Teacher, we want you to show us a miraculous sign to prove your authority” (Matthew 12:38). Jesus, in essence, says, "Here I am! And what I'm going to do will be greater than any vibrant color I could conjure up for you at the moment, and you're going to miss it because you're focused on what you consider vibrant, not what God considers vibrant."

God's grace and blessing pours out around us, and on us, in so many ways but we miss so much because we're looking at the wrong things - what we consider vibrant - instead of looking to God, listening to God, being still before God. He will surprise us in so many ways, if we learn that even in the muted tones he is there, working. But every once in a while, when we turn the corner in some area of our life, we may see an amazing splash of colors. I think that's God's way of reminding us that, "yes, I, your Creator, am working in ways that you don't always see nor understand. You are my painting, my poem, my workmanship, and I am at work in and around you."

May God open our eyes to see glimpses of his grace, open our ears to hear his whispers, open our hearts to receive his love.