For many, autumn ushers in a time of thanksgiving. For me, however, it initiated a time of personal transformation. After a miserable, sleepless night, I was in need of some serious coffee.
As I staggered down the hall and into the kitchen, I noticed my husband hunched at the table, fruitlessly seeking the cooperation of his indifferent computer. I shuffled past him, ignoring his intermittent outbursts of frustration, and lifted the lid of the coffee canister.
The grim sight of the barren canister banished any vestige of optimism or grace that survived the night’s ordeal and I slammed the lid shut. “No…way!”
My husband jerked his head around and stared at me. A testy exchange followed spurring me to stalk out the door in my robe and slippers headed for Starbucks–resentful repartees flying as the car lurched out of the garage and into the chilly October air.
As I wound down the road, my rant gave way to silence in the face of the raw beauty of autumn in the California foothills.
Feasting on the brilliant palette of fall, spontaneous praise for God’s magnificent artistry quelled my heated thoughts. The towering dark trunks of the regal Black Oaks served as an architectural backdrop for the panoramic canvas of color. Bright splashes of foliage lay without ceremony, here and there; deep purples rested against shimmering yellows; a chartruese Aspen glowed with an inner life against the fiery pillars of the red maple trees.
The intoxicating display effectively set against the pale gray sky stood as a silent witness to God’s beauty and grace–a beauty and grace of which I was bereft at that moment.
I drove on, thoughtful, humbled that God would speak so wondrously to me even as I was.
Half an hour later when I pulled back into the garage, God had used much more than the rousing effects of caffeine to restore my equilibrium. And so it was with a mind filled with beauty and a heart bent on charity that I walked back through the door to my husband.
How has God used some aspect of His creation to make an impact on your life?