On Autumn and Remembrance

I love Autumn. I hate Winter (well, I hate Winter in Chicago, when you see maybe an hour of real sunlight, your backside gets chapped from the cruel wind, and your feet never really thaw even with two pairs of thermal socks on under the covers). Winter in DC is not quite so bad, but the farther South I get, the more I'd like to be. However, I'm afraid I'd miss the changing of the seasons.

The onset of Autumn brings a flood of memories and enjoyable moments. And, there is this duality of Autumn unlike any other season. In Spring, the earth is coming to life. In Summer, life is at it's peak. And in Winter, all things are dead. Autumn, however, brings both the slow, strangely beautiful onset of death - the changing of leaves, the shortening of days, the grass fades and the temperature drops. It is gradual, as if the Earth knows that we are creatures of habit that do not like sudden change. And yet, as a good Midwestern and farmer's granddaughter should note, with Autumn comes the harvest. There is provision for the Winter; hope to get through until Spring.

I walked to work this morning in a chilly drizzle. I laughed to myself, thinking if I were still in college I would not bother with the umbrella. Umbrella's are for wimps. But in the real world, I attempt to pull-off 'professional,' and semi-soaking wet doesn't cut it. Remember when you could just run home from class (in the rain), change into pj's and an oversized sweatshirt, curl up under a quilt with a cup of hot tea and read all day?

This line of thought took me on a journey of Autumn memories. The start of a new semester, football games, apple cider, pumpkin pie, Friends night with the Locust Street Girls, swing dancing, the leaves changing colors on campus, Quad squirrels attacking my lunches, driving to G & G's in a car that didn't go over 50mph (without serious consequences) for Thanksgiving, etc. Memory is such a powerful element in our lives. The same session of memories that bring happiness can also bring sorrow.

I was struck by how often G-d calls us to remember. His Covenant, His wonders, His mercy, His deeds. In the Old Testament, when His people are stubborn, He reminds them to reflect on His history with them. Remember who brought you out of slavery? Who parted the Sea and delivered the Promised Land? Now stop being mules, and place your faith in He Who Is Your History as a People.

I lost sight of this history once, and let the memories of His work in my life fade, until hope faded with them. It is a strange feeling when the soul longs for the life you do not let it remember. I could say that my soul overpowered my mind, but that would attribute too much to my doing. The Grace that called me to Him was stored in my soul's memory, and called me once again to remember His goodness, mercy, provision and hope.

Remember this, fix it in mind,
take it to heart, you rebels.
Remember the former things,
those of long ago;
I am God, and there is no other;
I am God, and there is none like me.
I make known the end from the beginning,
from ancient times, what is still to come.
I say: My purpose will stand,
and I will do all that I please.

(Isaiah 46:9 & 10)

I remember the day He reminded me He Is My History, my beginning and my end. My mind walked through both good and bad memories. Memories of His provision, His comfort, His love. And memories of my pride, my sinfulness, and my selfishness. The contrast of His History in my life vs. My History in my life... that is the power of memory. It humbles us, calls us to repentance, fills us with joy and wonder at the mercy of our King, and compels us to worship Him.