Several weeks ago, in a post entitled, “Autumn Blaze,” I wrote about the glorious colors of fall foliage. The title was borrowed from a line of poetry by Helen Hunt Jackson (1830-1885): “The land is lit with autumn blaze.”
As most of you know, Steve and I lived in Florida for forty years. We retired in June to Ohio, so we could be near two of our three children and their families. In many ways our transition has been a homecoming because both of us grew up in the Midwest.
One of the things we missed most while living in the south was “autumn blaze.” All through last summer I waited expectantly for October and the display of God’s rich tapestry among the trees.
But those of you who live in four-season states know only too well: the blaze is quickly snuffed out by northerly winds and chilly temperatures. By mid-November, many trees have already been stripped of every leaf.
And now those bare, bleak branches stand pitifully exposed, reaching uselessly toward the sun for warmth. The splendorous color is gone; dingy gray-brown bark is all we see. The trees stand lifeless. Hopeless.
If I’m not careful, such sad thoughts will lead me into the doldrums.
A better train of thought to follow? Reasons to appreciate this dormant stage of the trees. For example: When the leaves are gone, I can appreciate the delicate lace work of branches, hidden from view except in winter. They too demonstrate the creative genius of our God.
However, when numerous bare trees huddle together on a hillside, the individual branches are indistinguishable. Our younger son and daughter-in-law enjoy a hillside view from their kitchen window–in spring, summer, and early fall, that is. Indeed, just a few weeks ago, the trees were ablaze, dressed in autumn finery.
Now the scene is much different. Look out that window today and you’d be underwhelmed by the great swath of drab dullness. Time to close the curtains.
But wait. What if we look at that sad scene and think HOPE. Because we know what’s in store.
“No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn” (Hal Borland).
Winter is a time of rest, recuperation, and preparation. When warmth and light return in the spring, new life will burst forth in all creation. Guaranteed.
Those lifeless branches can remind us of another HOPE. Because we know that the God who brings life to dead trees can redeem any situation. Guaranteed.
“Oh? What basis is there for such grand HOPE?” someone might ask.
- We base our HOPE on God’s love.
Absolutely nothing can separate us from his love (Romans 8:39). And if he loves us, he will care for us. “With God on our side, how can we lose?” (v. 32, MSG).
HOPE in our loving God is not misguided.
- We base our HOPE on God’s character.
I love Psalm 145, the only one called “a psalm of praise,” in which David extols God’s character. Our Lord is great (v.3), gracious, good, and compassionate (vs. 8-9), glorious and mighty (v. 11), righteous and kind (v. 17).
These are not descriptors of a distant god who takes no interest in his creatures. Our God is a hands-on Heavenly Father who demonstrates all these glorious attributes–in our day-to-day lives. The Lord is always watching over us (v. 20).
HOPE in our powerful God is not just wishful thinking.
- We base our HOPE in God’s promises.
“The Lord is faithful to all his promises and loving toward all he has made” (Psalm 145:13).
HOPE in our reliable God is not blind optimism.
Christian HOPE is the trusting expectation that God will keep his Word.
This may sound strange, but let’s look to the bare trees for encouragement. See them as glorious HOPE on display! And let’s live in cheerful expectation of God’s plan, purpose, and blessing for the future.
(Photo credits: www.staticweb.maine.edu; http://www.commons.wikimedia.org; http://www.terragalleria.com.)
From the Inside Out 