“There needs to be another Lent,” I complained to my husband just the other day. “Fall feels like just the right time to start to wonder about what places in me need to die.”
When the kids go back to school and red delicious apples are juicy, I find myself aching for fall. I long for brightly colored leaves to drift in the wind. I crave pumpkin flavored coffee, cakes, and scented candles. I look forward to cool breezes through open windows, scarecrows in yards, and choosing an outfit based on boots and scarves.
to die with brilliance.
And when the earth is caught in this parade of spectacular death, I find myself wondering how to join in. NO, I’m not suicidal. I mean spiritual death, symbolic death. What parts of myself need to die? Where is God calling me to make room for the new life of Advent?
Liturgy is such a gift to me in most seasons. But fall doesn’t feel like ordinary times to me, as the liturgical calendar suggests. It is not a time to just keep pushing on with the vigor of summer days; it is time to submit to the coming winter. It is a time to yield. There is still work to be done in fall but it the work of ending well so that winter rest is timely.
My heart needs another Lent. It needs another season of submission and release and surrender.