On November's Terms

a devotional for autumn

Photo by Sixteen Miles Out on Unsplash

the rains move in 
steady, sudden

and we are under the spell
of a magic
half-hidden
by the darkness of the season;

waters rising
to wash away 
each chalk-drawing change
that the childish summer made,

and leave us under
autumn's cloak and tide

until the winter recedes. 

With All-Hallowtide behind us and Advent around the corner, the temptation is already in the air, the whispering resounds, to jump ahead. To leap over the increasingly rainy gloom of November and head straight into the glow of the holidays. 

And listen, I understand the impulse. I feel it, too. Especially as Daylight Savings Time ends and the new timing of our evenings leaves us darker than ever, earlier than before. As I write this, we’re in the midst of our first real storm of the season, gusting winds and pouring rain. The delicate trees are losing their dead limbs and leaves as the Creator prunes away what is no longer needed. The marshy area around our pond is filling in, making it difficult to walk the forest paths we love to travel in the late summer and early fall, wading through water past our ankles. 

This season has its darkness, its gloom. But it also has its own poetry.

True, if it’s something that truly brings you joy, there’s certainly nothing wrong with breaking out the Christmas trappings early, or even holding on to Hallowe’en for a bit longer. Whatever soothes your soul is worth leaning into, especially when days are heavy.

But each season on its own terms has blessings and beauty, sometimes unexpected, and November—no longer Hallowe’en, not yet Christmas—has a lot to teach us, if we’ll listen.

This is the season for the necessity of good boots and strong coffee and soft blankets. A time before the holiday rush to breathe into the stillness, to meditate on what autumn truly is when unlit and unfiltered, still haunted, unmasked. When no cheery music is playing yet, and the only gifts are the ones that nature herself gives: life-giving rain, bright colors, heightened senses, a drawing-in. 

Perhaps, if you’ve always leaped into Christmas and it has left you hollow and exhausted, this is the year to try something new. Consider this your invitation.

Here at this table we believe in taking each season as it comes. So if you're interested in that, you're in good company.

November on its own terms has a unique character, all her own. And she is ready to make your acquaintance.   

Discussion Question

What is your relationship with November like? Do you hold on to October’s spooky flavor, or do you leap into Christmas, or do you have your own special focuses, interests, or routines for this in-between month?

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