Beautiful Surrender

Have you ever noticed that the leaves on the trees are more breathtakingly beautiful right before they surrender? Their colors and hues make me weep as I stand in awe of a world that God set into motion through His spoken words. He breathes in and says, “Let it be” and it is. And it's glorious.

The weather affects the autumn colors. A succession of warm, sunny days and cool, crisp but not freezing nights seem to bring about the most amazing colors. The amount of moisture that seeps into the soil enhances the colors. The leaves are beginning to sprinkle the ground and yet some still remain on the tall branches in a display that is captivating. But, soon enough the wind will turn colder encouraging them to let go as they fall to the ground signaling another season passed.

I feel like the leaves ready to surrender, a new level and layer of letting go. Perhaps we surrender in layers just like we heal. Our Master Gardener peels back layer by layer, going deeper into a place that is familiar with pain. He shakes off the clumps of dirt and rearranges me so that I can flourish where He plants me come spring. I am no longer afraid of winter and things stripped bare.

Shake off the dust and soil. And graft me in, Master Gardener. I wither without You, fading without purpose.

Winter may come, but warmth still remains because I am hopeful, more respecting of even the seasons that chill me to the bone. In the past, my seasons of spiritual winter
left me wanting, feeling barren and cracked, and unproductive. But each season in our spiritual lives give way to something greater, a new level of letting go and deeper surrender.

So, I let go even if the color drains out of me.

I let go even though I would rather remain in higher places.

I let go of the familiar to step into the unknown that I know God is calling me to; beautiful surrender, more of Christ and less of messiness of me.

The leaves may fall to the ground much like our tears, but they are not wasted. They decompose and restock the soil with much needed nutrients. Our wintered soul cries the tears of surrender until what once was calloused and cracked runs smooth. The winter is coming bringing bare trees, but not barren trees. They will still be strong and tall without the decorations of color that I much prefer.

“In spiritual winters, our fullness is thinned out so that, undistracted by our giftings, we can focus upon our character. In the absence of anything to measure, we are left with nothing to stare at except for our foundation.” ~ Alicia Britt Chole (anonymous)

Prayer:

Let it be in me just as it is in the leaves right before they release their grip on the strong tree that fed them and held them in place for so long. Let me be a display of your splendor, a woman who lives in surrender. Seasons change, but You remain the same. A God of wonder, a God I seek after, a God who is still speaking me into motion and making something beautiful out of the mess of me. I’m not afraid to let go anymore! Amen

Who needs the colors of autumn when God longs to decorate us with a crown of beauty instead of ashes? Joy instead of mourning, a garment decked out in praise instead of a withering spirit of despair. We will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor. (Is 61)

It’s time to embrace beautiful surrender!

Much love to you,

Jennifer