Autumnal Face

“No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.” (John Donne)

Lately, I ride my bike to work, slowly. Pacing myself over large bumps in the sidewalk. Counting squirrels, feeling the morning coolness. Wishing leaves would turn brilliant colors instead of just fading to crackling dead brown.

I work in an office, but it’s more meaningful and fun then an ordinary “9-5.” I work with people who actually care about people, people who seriously want to see the kingdom of heaven on earth.

I am attending a church, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like I belong.

I am even helping out with the youth. I am remembering what being a teenager is like, seeing the world through their eyes, rediscovering my passion for encouraging people during the most difficult years of transition into being an adult.

I read alot. Anything I can get, really. I am eating words, and hoping that something worthwhile will come out of me.

My cynicism is gone.

Even as I write that sentence, something deep inside me feels released.

Not to say I don’t have my cynical moments, my questioning nature and introspective mind makes it inevitable.
However,  the underlying attitude that had infiltrated so much of my heart, to the point I couldn’t stand anything that feels remotely “christian cliche” is gone. It’s simply disappeared. I did nothing to try to get rid of it really.

It’s like I woke up one day and realized grace is better.

I even made myself laugh recently. I was in the car and “I Can Only Imagine” came on the radio, and I didn’t even think about changing it. I didn’t feel disgusted. Not to say I like it or anything, but I could stand to listen to it. I even laughed, and started to sing along.

For awhile, I was severely questioning how I could keep on “being in ministry.” I was questioning whether I should take this job, even though I knew it was exactly and perfectly where I needed to be. It’s easier to move to the next thing, be non-commital in the name of being a gypsy. I knew I was running away, always going here and there and everywhere. So I stopped. Took a deep breath. Decided to plant. Partially, because I didn’t neccessarily feel like I had the choice.

Now, there is joy. Now I feel like myself, my real self. I don’t need to fake it or live in any of the past experiences or issues. I don’t need to carry bitterness and frustration.

I don’t need to be stuck in the quicksand of my own emotions, my own perceptions, my old fears.

Love has slowly changed me, healed me, broken in.

I can chose see the world through filters of love and grace, because, that is all I have.

Autumn may be metaphorically a time of things dying and preparing for the ultimate death of winter. Yet, I see the grace in it now. I see the change that only a all-loving God could create. I feel the death of my jaded and cynical self. This is newness.