A New Angle

 A friend texts me and says she's off work on Friday. Wonders if I'm up to a fall hike with her. I've been feeling the pull to get out in nature all week, so she doesn't have to ask me twice. 

When Friday comes, the weather has cooperated nicely. It's the first real sunny day in a couple weeks as fall showers and overcast skies have blocked it from view. The warmth is refreshing. 

As we set off on our hike, I notice the fall colors slowly fading. A lingering brilliance in their red and gold still shines through when the sun hits them just right. But they are dying and mountains once laden with green trees now showcase a dark brown topped off by a dusting of snow. As the days grow chillier and the light lessens, it's as if the earth is going into hunker-down mode. Preparing itself for the cold of winter to arrive any day. Squirrels scamper to do their last-minute gathering, storing up food to last until the Spring comes again. 

I'm awed by the expansive scene around me: the mountains seem to be closer than ever, surrounding me on all sides as water-lake stretches as far as the eye can see. My breath is taken away as I'm stunned yet again by the beauty of the Creator's handiwork. This truly is my Father's world. 

I've never hiked this far back before, leaving me to take in a view different from anything I've seen previously in the many times I've come here. While familiar, it's as if I'm seeing everything from a new perspective. To think what I've missed all the times I turned back sooner. 

And how many miracles do we miss out on simply because we've given up rather than pressing on...

Seeing this from an entirely fresh angle causes me to realize that sometimes life can become too familiar. Sometimes it's easy to lose your sense of wonder when it all appears just the same. When you quit on the blessing before it's time, you're always left thinking of what might have been. You're always kept from having your faith refreshed, renewed, reborn. You need a re-set to keep you believing, to keep you hoping. 

As the cooler temperatures remind me that snowflakes will soon fall, I'm reminded that expectation affects outcome: prepare for your soul-winters well, and you will survive. Expect an endless summer and your heart will faint. Die. What keeps you holding out for Spring is how you've lived your Fall.  How you've stored up in the all-important things. 

Nature is teaching me a lesson as it begins to go dormant. Seeds have scattered, creatures have gathered, and all is waiting for the cold to come. Somehow, it knows via heavenly cycle that this is the rhythm. This is the season. It doesn't fight the impending arrival of winter; rather, it anticipates it. The question is not if it will come, but when. 

What if our expectations reflected such expectation? Instead of wishing away our soul-winters, what if we expected them? What if we properly prepared for them instead of being caught off guard? What if we equipped ourselves to withstand the icy chill by using our fall seasons to store up that which can make a heart survive? Even thrive! 

In life as in nature, last winter likely won't be our final one. There will be more to come, leaving us with the choice as to how we will prepare our souls accordingly. The friend and I talk of how you can't predict or foresee what will happen to you but you can choose your response. You can affect your outcome based on your expectation. Based on your faith. And I want to be one of the ones who does more than just barely make it out of my winters. I want to be better because of them. Stronger. Braver. Bolder. 

Sinclair Ferguson poignantly writes, 

"Learn the promises of God in advance. When the time of crisis or darkness comes, it is too late to start learning them. Store up the Word of God, like a squirrel storing up nuts for the winter; for the winter-time of life will surely come when you will need God's promises to act as an anchor for your soul." 

Sun slips behind mountain majesty, and finger tips cool. It's time to turn on the heat in the car as I drive home. Warm the body as worship lyrics warm my heart. Without the leaves on all the trees, I'm gaining views I rarely, if ever, see. And I'm appreciating the change of scenery. It's incredible what can happen when you simply see something (or someone) from a new angle. 

Who knew that just a slight change in season could actually change everything?