It's that time of year around here. Crunch time. But, not in the sense you may think.
The grass is crunchy. The flowers are crispy. The hanging baskets, deep-fried. One of our trees is starting to drop little brown crumbly leaves all over the deck like no one's business.
I like to think of it as God's way of gently easing us out of summer. By this point--September, dry as a bone, and 92 degrees, we are ready for a change. Ready for crisp mornings and a veil of fog draped low on the hills, ready for jeans and jackets, ready for the vibrancy of leaf-shades in red, orange, and yellow.
So, instead of bemoaning the dying season, I see it for what it is. Divine preparation. God is saying: Just wait. Better things are on the horizon.
Dear Lord: Thank you for your abundance, but also for scarcity. Without rain, I could not appreciate sunshine; without heat, I could not savor coolness; without dark, I would not love the light. Help me to see the blessings in every season, and in every situation, knowing that you care for us and have fashioned this world and its seasons fearfully and wonderfully.
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.
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