Seasons

grandkids, a friend, and autumn leaves



"He changes the times and seasons..." (Daniel 2:21 NIV)

In A Movable Feast, Ernest Hemingway wrote: "You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintery light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen."

Fall isn't sad to me. It's nostalgic - a sentimental, wistful affection for happy childhood autumn days atop Lookout Mountain in Fort Payne, Alabama. That's why not one of my storybooks closes before harvest gold and pumpkin orange paint over summertime's green canvas.

My Phillip says that man measures time in days and years; God's calendar, however, is marked in moments and seasons. Beloved, if we look carefully, we'll find His goodness stamped in everyone.