In San Diego, you have a warm summer (April through October) and a colder summer (November through March). You do not have faith in seasons. If plants start dying, "Water it! Fertilize it! There must be a disease!" But in Michigan, when plants start to die, people go on runs through beautiful woods (like mine today at Hofma park. Above, the branches dangled gold medallions and bright red
flames. Their branches stretched out across the trail like a victory tunnel through which I would run and cheer, lifting my hands to stroke the low-hanging leaves. And below, the forest floor was covered in a blanket of every color, leaves like confetti after a celebration. I didn't want that run to end). How
strange it is that all of this color, nature's yearly grand display, is death. The leaves are loosing their chlorophyl as the sun gets lower and the air gets colder. Winter is coming and with it everything just about dies. In San Diego, we avoid this. But here there is a widely accepted faith in spring.
I have been having trouble sleeping at night. I begin thinking of what I will do when I wake up. Build something else? Email people back? What am I doing with my time? How can I start being productive? What if I just got a job at Meijer to help pay bills? When is that employer going to get back to me? Is that really what I want to do with my life? Okay, what would I do if money wasn't an object? These are all questions that fill my mind as I sleep. Maybe I ask them because I am trying to find a question I can answer. I am tired of not being able to answer anything. Because God has placed me in an indefinite sabbath. I have no work to do, even if I wanted to do it. I must go to sleep at night with no answers for tomorrow. Like I said, where I am from, things don't really ever die so this is scary for me.
So is this a sabbath or just me laming out on life? And if it is a sabbath from God (as I am practicing to believe it is), can it really be as beautiful to God as the death of these trees is beautiful to me?
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