The Leaf
Give yourself this gift.
Do yourself this kindness.
You won't look like anyone around you...but that's so ok.
You'll be receiving something they might miss.
Not everyone who receives this encouragement lives in an area where autumn leaves are shining. But if you do — do this. Find yourself a good place to sit, in a comfy chair, and focus on a colorful tree. Pick a place where the world isn't too close to you and turn your phone to silent mode. And now wait...the wait will be good for your soul. Still yourself. And wait for that moment when one leaf lets go. And watch that one leaf let go of all it's ever known and do something it's never done — fly. Watch it all the way.
..it lets go of all it's ever known and does something it's never done.
If only we people could catch hold of its message. In the silence of the colors, the Teacher teaches us so much.
Oh I know we can't “fly”, but we can shine. We can shine our best in our final days... actually we SHOULD shine our best in our autumn and winter days. Because we've had the chance to live our days attached to the One who holds us fast and feeds us with Himself. We can begin to realize that although we are stuck to the dirt of this earth, like the roots of the tree, we are not held down. It's a beautiful and honest gift we can receive, if we'll only see it rightly from His hand. Jesus dealt with the dirtiest of this world. We don't have to wallow in it, He's already freed us from it... if we've accepted His gift.
If you haven't attached yourself to Him, like a trembling leaf attached to a solid tree, then oh please do. If you want someone to pray it through with you, I'll scoot the-leaf-of-me up beside the-leaf-of-you and we can sort it out for your soul.
(Just message me.)
But for the many of us who carry the Savior in our heart and soul, here's a lovely way to see yourself anew this time of year.
The base of the cross where our Jesus died, was stuck down hard into the ground. His blood flowed down that wooden pole and soaked the dirt around it. He did what we could not have done for ourselves or for anyone else — no matter how much we loved them. He did it.
His forgiveness is found in that flow of red blood.
His cleansing is found in the spot where blood met dirt.
His blood. My dirt.
His blood. Your dirt.
His cross. This earth.
He is the barrier between us and the pit.
The leaf lives its whole short life suspended high above the dirt of this world. It grows and lives by the watering the tree gives it. It's held high, where the sun can find it and in turn it gives shade, for a brief time, to whatever rests beneath it. The leaf does nothing other than receive from above and gives to what comes near it. It can teach us in a silent way.
No matter how hot the day — the leaf holds its place.
No matter how dark the night — the leaf holds to its “home”.
No matter how strong the wind — the leaf clings with all its might.
No matter how cold the hour — the leaf remains.
Then the seasons change. The warmth of summer fades as the sun shifts in the sky. The leaf remains, but it changes with the season. Its summer green transforms into a color its never been before. It is made new even as it is old. It becomes something that joins in with all the other leaves and they together paint a forest in colors none of them ever intended.
The leaf doesn't do it. The leaf-Maker does.
The leaf simply remains in place for whatever comes. It turns its most beautiful color and waits for the perfect moment. And when its moment comes it lets loose of all it's ever known and it does something it's never done...it flies.
Give yourself the gift of watching a leaf let go of its home and fly. Watch it all the way from take off to landing. It is dancing as it lays itself down. It can teach us in a silent way. When a leaf is finishing out its days, it gives a show and lays itself down. It doesn't grumble. It doesn't complain. It doesn't murmur. It dances. And even then, it will eventually fertilize the soil it rests on so future leaves can receive from the bit it left behind.
Oh I know, leaves can't think. They can't speak. They can't do anything other than what they are given or be anything other than a simple leaf on a mighty tree. But why — oh why — can't I be more like a peaceful, quiet, dancing leaf...with all that I've been given and all that I can do? As I watch a silent, colorful leaf let go and dance on its one un-applauded flight at the end of its few days, I want to be more like that leaf and less like the noisy people crunching it under their rushing footsteps.
Give yourself this gift. Do yourself this kindness.
Pause and watch the silent, lovely, dance.
The Creator did all this for us, that we might understand MORE.
*Note for today's first Reach Link titled Fall on Me – I do not believe Bocelli meant this song in a Christian way. But for me, it is one of my favorites. Why? Because I hear it as if I am singing it to my Savior --- knowing how very much I need Him to “fall on me”. Enjoy it in a new way as you allow yourself to sing it to our Good Father.)
