My participation in Fall

Walking to church this morning, I couldn't help but feel a little like the many trees around me. Today the leaves suddenly decided to expedite their Autumn festivities by shedding themselves in a red fury of swirling wind, leaving their trees exposed and bare. You see, I cut my hair yesterday - like really cut it - and it is shockingly short, sharp, stylish, and not very Laura-like. On my walk to church early this morning to rehearse for my vocal solo, I felt humbly exposed and bare.

Singing in front of the congregation this morning, I experienced something really nice. Perhaps it was the humiliation from my new hair, but my music was more intimate and heart-exposing than it has been in awhile. I sang "Cry of the Broken" by Darlene Zschech - a song that deeply resonates with me. There is something so solidifying about proclaiming your faith in front of other people, especially through such a personal and intimate medium as singing. Through my own experience of worship before my congregation and the words of others this morning, I am reminded of one of the very few things I've known I'm meant to do. At the age of 25, I am still not sure what I am supposed to do with my life. However, I know I am meant to sing true things in front of other human persons.

So despite my hair, I am grateful for the effect it had on me today.

Rather late than not at all

Since I was a little girl, I have always had this urgent fear of missing out. As a child, I always wanted to do whatever my siblings were doing, be a part of whatever fun they were having with their friends, and stay up as late as I possibly could so as to not miss any potential fun. I remember times when I would come a few minutes late to the dinner table after my family had prayed. Feeling so hurt and distraught that they prayed without me, I made my dad pray again every time. I just couldn't miss out.

And so. I find my entire family (minus the Daddy) is participating in nablopomo. I don't care that I am starting a few days late. I WILL NOT MISS OUT THIS TIME.

And now for a scattered account of nice things that happened today:

As I had the day off, I slept in (glory) and woke up to coveted rays of sunshine pouring into my room. My first thoughts were something like: "oh the possibilities!" After peppermint coffee and scrambled goat cheese/eggs, I proceeded to spend my afternoon productively playing in the mud, that is, planting daffodils. Oh the joy and delight that ensued! This was my first time planting anything! It's just like magic! You dig a hole, place a bulb in it, cover the hole back up, and a living thing springs up out of the ground. How nice to be a catalyst to growth.

The bulbs


The gardener


View of my house from the daffodils



Sitting down on my porch steps with my messy garden hair, muddied jeans, and gardening gloves, I looked out upon the garden in satisfaction. During this particular moment, sissy called. This conversation happened.

My next venture was chocolate chip cookies, during which I talked/not talked with BriBri as Pumpkin Man for two hours on g-chat.

See...




Also, I got some good time with my mom on the phone and another good friend on Skype. I did, as a result of my complete inability to multi-task, burn a batch of cookies, but the rest turned out well. One day they will turn out EXACTLY like my momma's. One day.

I conclude my rather scattered introductory blog post for the month of November....now.

"Goldener light sets noon a sleeping like an afternoon; Colder airs come stealing, creeping from the misty moon"

Yesterday was the first day of Autumn. Well, not actually, but as Brianna would say, yesterday was the beginning birth pains of Autumn. The air suddenly turned cool, the colors suddenly changed, and the scent of the air was suddenly that of the beginnings of decay. Something strange has been happening without fail for the past several years whenever the weather abruptly changes to Fall. Unlike any other smells of the different seasons, the smell of Autumn makes my heart ache. Winter makes me reverent and reflective, Spring excites me and sets my soul spinning, Summer brings out my inner child, but Autumn pierces me. Autumn is simultaneously glorious and intensely painful.

Just as soon as I took my first step outside yesterday, my eyes were delightfully surprised by the changed colors, not in the trees necessarily, but in the glow of the sun set against a crisp sky with rolling clouds. However, as my eyes delighted in the colors, my heart was pierced with the beginning smells of decay that bring back such vivid memories from Autumns past. These memories consist of exciting stages in my life, building new friendships, the glory and excitement of falling in love, reckless abandonment to joy, warm drinks with friends, bundling up and reading a good book, crazy unpredictable weather, love delayed and unfulfilled, disappointment, despair, and the list goes on. All of the memories of events, people, emotions, or brief moments in time flood back with just one intake of air.

Why is it that Autumn and no other season does this to me? The pain and pleasure are not unwelcome, I must confess. There is a certain satisfaction in this nostalgia. I am reminded that these events in my life, the good with the difficult, are what have been used to form and grow me. I would not change any of it at all. I can only hear God telling me, “Get excited, for I have great things in store for you”. I wonder what sort of events, people, emotions, etc will be stored with my composite of Autumn memories this time, to be remembered in future Autumns.

Ps. My title is taken from G. MacDonald' poem: "Autumn Song"