Rest

With the advent cooler days, I've felt my spirit drooping. I am anticipating the bare branches, the dry brown grass, the creeping vines to replace their blossoms with prickly thistles. Mostly I'm remembering the wind, sometimes biting and sometimes filling the once blue sky with brown dust clouds. Winter's coming. Winter's coming.



With each spin of the earth, a new day dawns. The leaves soak in the sunlight, the roots gather nutrients. Everything is growing, working, producing in the day. Then night comes and even the trees rest. They do not soak in the sun. Inhale. Exhale. They rest.



In the Spring, seeds shoot roots down, shoot stems up, and the tendrils creep and gather nutrients, Sun. Summer flowers sprout, bees pollinate, fruit plumps. So much Summer bounty and sunshine and produce. Then Indian Summer sunshine and cool nights. Then Harvest and Blessings and Gathering.



Late Fall. We gather, give thanks.

And then it is the cold Solstice and the earth is still spinning but she rests. Peaceful snow-slumber night. And in the night, we read by the fireplace The Story and see the black sky and the pinpoint stars and the one star and the One. And we rest. And we rejoice.


And we endure. The winter drudges on. But then little by little the seeds shoot and the tendrils creep and find sun and earth.


Perspective.


And application. Produce! Carrie. Plant and sow and let your tendrils creep toward light and food, and produce! Then rest like Mother Earth in her season, in your night, in your winter. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe and rest...and rejoice.

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven... (Ecclesiastes 3:1)