“I was sitting out on my deck one day and it was February, the middle of winter. We live in the woods in North Carolina and they’re all hardwood trees, so when it’s barren, it’s barren; you can just see forever. And the Holy Spirit said, “Don’t you love how far you can see?” And I said, “What?” And He’s like, “Look through. Look how far you can see right now. Don’t you love the clarity that winter brings?” And He said, “Do you feel anxiety in the trees? Do they feel anxious that they will never bloom again?” And I said, “Lord, of course they don’t.” And He said, “I want to teach you something about this. There’s a confidence and a security in my heart. Do not misinterpret this season.”
I thought about how ridiculous it would be to run into the woods in the middle of winter and say, “Don’t worry! Spring will come! You’ll bloom again.” Because they’re so rooted and grounded, they know they’re gonna bloom again. It’s because they get the necessity of seasons of rest and barrenness to the fruitfulness of their spring and harvest.” -Melissa Helser
From as far as I can remember, I used to always be in awe of the breathtaking beauty of autumn and attributed much of my inclination towards this particular season to the vast colors of the leaves and the crispness of the wind. The greenness of leaves throughout the majority of the year seem to blend into the background towards the end of summer, mainly because I’m so used to seeing them in my everyday passings. I think that’s another reason why autumn is so fascinating; the green leaves that I’m so accustomed to suddenly turn red or orange or yellow, only to fall shortly after their change.
I’ve been reflecting in the current “season” that I’m in, honestly vying for the days when I know that it’s coming to an end so that I can rejoice and perhaps in hindsight, understand why I had to plow on through for so long. Questions that come to mind include, “Why is it taking so long, Lord?” “Are you actually doing anything in this season?” “I don’t see the change in my heart. I don’t see the absolute importance of this.” And after long nights and difficult mornings filled with tears and sorrows and frustrations, He turned my attention towards the beauty of autumn. I’ve lived through twenty two autumns (five of which probably don’t exist in my memory bank) and I realized that I never understood the process that occurs behind the color change of leaves, which ultimately lead to the barrenness of winter.
The process behind autumn foliage officially starts as the days get shorter and the nights get longer; they refer to this as a “growth process”. Apparently, the leaves are sensitive to the length of these nights and consequently a layer called the “abscission layer” begins to form between the leaves and the branches. This layer slowly blocks the flow of nutrients from the roots to the leaves, eventually halting the production of chlorophyll, which gives leaves its green color. It’s at this point when the autumn colors of leaves are revealed. As the season continues, the connection between the leaves and branches get so weak that they break off, causing the fall of leaves signaling winter.
I can’t imagine what it must be like for trees to lose parts of them that contributed to their natural beauty and identity; as young kids, when we draw trees, they are rarely drawn without their green leaves! But I can’t help but wonder about the importance of this process that occurs year after year, leading to the season of barrenness… this process that begins when the nights become longer, when the nutrients to our security blankets are diminished, and when our ultimate barrenness forces us to face our own nakedness. What’s really there? What’s really been growing in the depths of our cores? Will we be afraid of it? Or will we understand the importance of being stripped of false securities and idols year after year until we are face to face with the One who is the mastermind behind the growth of autumn?
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