and where is autumn?

For those who have followed my blog entries throughout the month of October, you've probably just scratched your head in dismay after reading each post -- not really knowing what I was referring to when I felt like I was "not really sure of much these days", (in: not quite winter... not quite fall) or exactly what dream had died (in: a dream deferred?), and finally what current season had caused my prayer life to suddenly "embrace the mystery" (in: i don't know what's gonna happen... that's alright with me). After re-reading these posts, the poetry and lyrics that my mind was drawn to still remain very relevant, very needed with all that I am processing.... because the wound is still quite fresh right now. Healing will come, I know it will, but like all things, it will take time.

Uncertainty is still the most apropos word to describe the season at hand. And even though this is a difficult season, I would even be willing to call it a dark season, I still want to glean all of the lessons and truths that are being spoken to me through the world around me -- lessons spoken through people, through nature, through the change of seasons. Oh, how I am longing to be in a place and climate that would match the state of my soul right now...

Burnt-orange leaves, mixed with mustard-yellow, and dotted with cranberry-red are bursting forth from my soul, but there is no audible crunching underfoot to match the colors that are invading my mind. Where is autumn? Where is it? Undeniably, there is autumn in my soul, in my very being, but I wish I could see the colors, hear the sounds, feel the change in temperature, and smell the fall. Yes, smell it. I miss that smell so much. There is something so distinct about fall. It is terribly romantic, and yet it is also terribly jarring. Fall ushers in so quietly, with such subtlety. But once you realize that the leaves have changed, that many of them have already turned to brown and you totally missed that they were actually gold after their summer green, there is a startling realization that awaits you.

Fall is so utterly glorious; it truly is. But, in truth, what is really hiding behind all of the brilliant hues is the ugly secret that no one wants to admit: something is dying; something has died. Even now, death is lurking. Dreams have died.

I still want to learn what I don't yet know. I am asking hard questions; I know the questions do matter. They absolutely do. I am stepping back and asking myself whether I really, do I really, want to serve as a pastor, to "be in ministry"? Do I? I don't know right now. And, I'm okay with not knowing for the time being. I'll have the next few months to ask these questions and more.

In this new season of uncertainty, I'm going to allow myself both time and space to process all that has gone down in the past three months. I know that I have been pretty vague in my posts, and that is intentional. Let me just borrow a line from Sara Groves yet again:

...how so much can go wrong

and yet still there are songs...