The Beauty of Death

No, I'm not being morbid. Recently I've been struck so vividly by the beauty that comes from the dying process. Autumn is my favorite season. It has been, for as long as I can remember. The vibrant colors of fall, for some reason give me a boost of energy. The crunch beneath your feet, the brisk cool air, the amazing colors - it presents a smorgasbord for the senses. As the trees prepare for winter, it slowly shuts off the supply of "food" to the leaves. As the leaves try to change colors during the "dying" process, they remind me to never make excuses for not living life. The create beauty till that final breaking off point. They live - quite vibrantly, in fact - the whole time they are dying. So often I find myself holding back because it might not work out, it will take too long, or it might be too hard. Then I sit back and realize that time will pass anyway, and the "fall" might be worth the experience. I don't want to be the kind of green leaf that lets go early, because it will die eventually anyway. I don't want to be the brown leaf that that refuses to let go of my dreams, or plans just because they are mine. I want to be one of those maple leaves. preferably the orangish-yellowish ones. So beautiful and inspiring through out the dying process. That even though all odds are stacked against it, it continues to live vibrantly, affecting those around it, going full force until it's over. ________________________________ In short, I want guidance. I want to dream, and plan, and DO full-heartedly, until it is clear that God has another path for me. Then, I want to let go, give it up, and transfer my vision to the new pathway. I want to hold my dreams tight enough to give it my all, but loose enough that when God says "I have a better idea" I can let it go in eagerness of what is to come.