Autumn reds have transformed into deepest burgundy velvet; lemon yellows now reflect burnished gold. Stark branches stretch towards the heavens and yield to the purpose of transition from fall into winter, acknowledging the hands of their Creator, the Lord our God.
I picked up my steps as I rounded the curve along our county road. A strong north wind watered my eyes and blushed my cheeks. But my thoughts turned towards Jesus and His unfailing love, especially His mercy, new every morning.
Like the Solitary Leaf, I Remembered One Solitary Life … Jesus
A lone red oak stood at the elbow of the curve, its branches stripped bare from the assaulting wind — bare except for one solitary leaf just above my head now clothed in deep burgundy.
One solitary leaf.
One solitary life … Jesus.
I thought of His crimson blood that flowed on Calvary’s Hill and then realized that the crimson transitioned to burgundy as it dried only after accomplishing the sacrifice for the atonement of our sin — a deep burgundy velvet just like this one solitary leaf.
And His life’s blood still catches my attention as I, too, make the transition from one season to another.
I still cling to the cross, rugged, and bare, and now I can see the deepest burgundy velvet of the crimson blood that accomplished so much for me — I can see the purpose of transition and the need for the hush of glory while waiting for the new life of spring.
I thought of a verse in Isaiah that spoke into my weary spirit this week. Isaiah 41:9-10 reads, “You are My servant, I have chosen you and have not cast you away: Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.”
To me, those words speak of the deepest burgundy, garnished in burnished gold.
There is Always a Purpose of Transition
For He is the One who hung the stars in place.
He is the One who tells the seasons when to turn.
And He is the One who orchestrates all the days of my life, wrapping them in the purpose of transition — even those days which stand stark before Him clothed in deep burgundy velvet anticipating the hush of glory.
Thank you so much for stopping by. I would love for you to share what’s on your heart in the comments below. Scroll a little farther down and you’ll see where you can leave your comments. Together, we can find the nearness of God in our darkest moments.
Sweet blessings to you,
I feel that many of us are in transition. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my parents, grandparents and my childhood. How everything has changed, and will continue to change. Lots to ponder, and maybe write about.
Yes, I agree. Even all of creation transitions under God’s careful watchcare: winter becomes spring, and seedtime becomes harvest. I think you should definitely consider writing about it, how life goes on like a cog in a wheel, moving forward, faithfully carrying on for God’s glory.
Growing up in Pennsylvania I loved the changing seasons. Year after year, they testified of the truth you shared here and Edwina echoed in her comment-. Change always comes but through each one we grow and learn. When we lean into our savior, we become more like him and offer less of ourselves to the world. And that, in my case, is always a better offering. Love you my friend.
What a blessing to have you stop by. Thank you. Something I’m learning lately is that God’s goodness is evident everywhere, especially in the difficult places, especially in seasons of change. We just need to look for it 🙂