Memorial

a devotional for autumn

Happy October, dear friends!

One quick note before we begin. The October Issue—our seventh ebook, can you believe it?!—is now available for our paid subscribers! Already a paid subscriber? Tap HERE to go straight to the October Issue download page!

Want more info about paid subscriptions? Tap the button below!

---

Thank you for joining us! Before we begin our devotional, I wanted to share a Comment Highlight from last week:

On our essay last week, all about the place of fear in our faith, TBollen commented:

I liken the Biblical admonition "Fear not" to Scripture's repeated reminder not to be anxious. Seems to me that the sheer frequency of these twin imperatives reveals how much fear and anxiety are woven into our humanity. The antidote, if there is one, is trust: don't be afraid and don't be anxious, because God is powerful and God is good. Isaiah 30:15b is the verse that keeps coming back to me in these days when there's plenty about which to be fearful and anxious: "In quietness and trust is your strength."

Beautifully said, TBollen! It is always worth remembering that antidote of trust. How easily we forget!

If you want a chance to be featured in next week’s Comment Highlight, all you have to do is post a comment on any of this week’s posts or threads. That’s it!

Now, on with this week’s devotional…

---

the road is carpeted
with fallen leaves
brown

as summer wanes
wavers
and dies;

and we, who know rebirth
because we see it
every year

grieve the turn of the wheel
the loss of warmth
the sweep of cold

yet yearn
and hope;

for we have been taught
by the seasons

(among our first 
and wisest teachers)

that death
is not
the end.

Over the weekend I had the great honor of attending a memorial service for a dear elderly neighbor who passed away a few weeks ago.

It was a casual and sweet neighborhood affair, as I’m sure he would have liked. Nothing fancy, just a gathering of his family, friends, and community members swapping stories and eating potluck food on an unseasonably warm and sunny fall day. And while some tears were shed, there was a somewhat festive atmosphere, because our friend had been in great pain for a long time and now he was freed from that.

He left behind only love and laughter and tales to tell. I ponder that today, as we enter this month of October.

Every year in the autumn, we are given an opportunity to contemplate our own mortality, something that our society is less than comfortable—even hostile—to. In the modern world we defy aging, run from the inevitability of sorrow, and pretend away grief. And when it strikes in various ways, we don’t know how to handle it. We have not been given the tools.

Autumn is an annual decline. It is a picture, a symbol, of aging. The world around us gives in to slowness and eventual sleep. Yet there is no grief in this death, only acceptance. The birds, beasts, trees, and plants all know what to do. God gave them their roles to play in this yearly memorial. They gather, prepare, understand. Glean what wisdom they must glean and open themselves to the passage of time.

Contemplating our own mortality does not have to be disturbing or sad. Instead, it can bring us a sense of renewed vitality and vision, if we let it. In the autumn we can investigate decline, hold grief in our hands, look Death in the eye, and whisper, I see you. But not yet. Until then, let me be all that I am meant to be. Let me play the role that Autumn’s God has written on my heart.

Let me leave behind only love, laughter, and tales to tell.

---

Did this piece resonate with you? Take a moment to share it!

If you enjoy this piece, please let me know by tapping the heart to like, comment with your thoughts, share with someone you think will enjoy it, and subscribe to get instant access to my future work right to your inbox. Blessings!