Dear Autumn,

I’ve been anticipating you.

There was something in the air recently… I knew you would come. That brisk note in the breeze. The urgent tug at my hair last week. The whispering rain that hit the window pain late last night.

Your calling card leaves me with goosebumps on my flesh and a shiver of excitement down my spine. I turned to look, and there you were.

Did you expect me to be this ready for you?

If they had told me that I would get this weak for you years ago, I wouldn’t have believed them.

I didn’t understand then how much glory and beauty there is in shedding what isn’t serving you.

I thought the blooming, the growing, and the standing tall and proud made the soul beautiful.

And now I see…

that I need you.

I need to be reminded of everything that has been of use. It doesn’t just fall to the ground to die; it becomes the fertilizer, the nutrients, the saving grace.

dearest Autumn, 
I promise you

• to write with raw honesty.

• to dance like the wind.

• to share through vulnerability.

• to notice what leaves and what remains.

• to pray for more grace and strength.

& if there is anything more for me to lose this season, I pray you will hold my hand as I go and show me the brilliance in the falling of the leaves.

Onwards,