“Learning to live well in ordinary time isn’t a call to elevate moments; it’s a call to draw close to Christ.” Emily Freeman, Simply Tuesday
Today marks the first day of fall, and while Bloomington hasn’t quite figured it out, I have unpacked my scarves and am ready for all things apple. I’ve even already planned a night to make apple crisp for a friend who has never had it (can you believe that!?)
Autumn is undoubtedly my favorite time of year. I love the crispness in the air, I love pumpkins, I love apple cider, and I love the promise of weather under 85 degrees. Sign me up. But I especially love that, particularly here in the Midwest, the leaves on the trees will soon start changing colors. Deep greens will soon brighten into bold reds, yellows, golds, and oranges, popping against clear blue skies, nature’s last hurrah before the snow comes to cover the world. I love looking at the trees in fall. Every year I rediscover their magnificence through the change, as if waking up from a dream where the trees didn’t exist.
For me, the leaves changing colors brings new life to the ordinary, and rejuvenates me as I get caught up in seeking the extraordinary. Application season is upon me, and I spend at least an hour a day writing about all of the wonderful things I have done or will do, “once I am accepted into your program.” It has not left much opportunity for me to sit and reflect on the present, or even for me to be a part of the present.
In a time where I have to make myself sound insanely amazing and “too good to be true,” I find myself longing to just be. I long to be here now. So, for the next few weeks, and perhaps all through the autumn season, I plan to write once a week and just be. I don’t expect to write any huge revelations, or any Pulitzer works, but I do plan to explore the joy of gratitude of what I have, amidst the noise of “what I was” and “what I will.”