As we enter a new season, I’ve been wondering: what if we tried to see the onset of autumn through the eyes of a child? Or the beginning of any new season of life, perhaps. How might we react or sense it differently?
I’m usually inclined to look at the onset of autumn through rather wary, SAD-afflicted adult eyes, even as I try to enjoy any glints of ochre, russet, burnt umber and gold I can find. What if God intends us to go through our days with childlike trust, hope, wonder, and expectation in our hearts, no matter what our actual circumstances are?
“Childlike surrender and trust, I believe, is the defining spirit of authentic discipleship.” — Brennan Manning
To a child
Autumn may speak
of death and decay
to us, but to a child
it’s an invitation
to throw themselves down
and roll around on any
leaf-carpeted ground.
Autumn might signal
summer’s ending
but to a child it’s a time
of returning to school,
new shoes, equipment and clothes,
friendships rekindled, joyful
reunions, and fresh beginnings.
Autumn has many
moments of mists,
and moods we prefer
not to have to battle through,
but to a child
the veil becomes
a different kind of curtain,
mysterious, uncertain.
Autumn might suggest
a season of falls,
of decline and loss
of capacity, but to a child
it speaks of tumbling
deliberately onto chilly grass
and crunchy leaves.
Autumn hints at mellow
fruitfulness now being passed
its best, as darkness
increases and living things
are dying, but to a child
it’s just another day closer
to anticipated Christmas bliss.
Autumn brings increasing
cold, wind and sleety rain,
as trees become denuded
and winter creeps in,
but to a child each change
in the weather is just
another new way
of experiencing, touching,
tasting, seeing, and doing.
© joylenton
“I think that’s the true litmus test for someone who has become closer to Jesus: their heart is more loving, accepting, childlike, less believing that they have all the answers and more believing in Him.” — Donald Miller
It can be a hard calling and a tough surrender to trust God for better or be able to sense beauty and joy more than we sense the darkness, hardship and pain. It can be difficult to pay more attention to the good, can’t it? Especially when pain shouts so loud it seems to drown out all else.
But joy still exists in every dark moment we go through, and it’s so worthwhile to try to be more childlike by awakening to the joy hidden in plain sight. I’m inspired by my grandson’s attitude and I’m willing to try. How about you, my friend?
PS: You might be interested in: 50 Autumn activities for parents and kids, plus an inspiring creative guide to surviving the winter months by Emma Mitchell or her nature remedy book to help with SAD symptoms. 🙂 ❤
Poetry Joy 