The Collision

The sunflowers, marking the closure of summer, are backlit by the first hint of fall, and every season of 2020 feels like a reprise of Frozen II’s “Into the Unknown.”

And one thing we all know is that in many ways, nothing will ever be the same again. We are forever marked, traumatized, healing, building resilience or bitterness, growing or shrinking back, depending on our choices that we make in these critical months.

Our lives may currently feel a bit like a clip from a sci-fi apocalyptic film, but here we are: The seasons, set in motion and gently sustained by the One who spoke the cosmos into being, faithfully remind us to keep moving forward.

Today, the final sunflowers of the wilting days of summer hang on a bit longer as the first changing leaves of fall prepare to let go, echoing our call:

Hang on; Let go.

Though it may feel like eternity, this season, strange and inconvenient for many and nightmarish for others, will shift into the next season, filled with unknowns and colossal question marks.

And I hear the whisper of the Spirit in this collision of seasons: “I have called you to let go of your death-grip on those things over which you perceive to have control. It is not yours to hold, and it never was. Let go. It’s too heavy.

Secondly, hold on. He’s always here, hand outstretched, pursuing me even when I stubbornly try to grasp at the straws that offer no peace. Hold on to His hand. He’s so much more stable and constant than the things that I try to white-knuckle until my hands just can’t hold them any longer.

As the year that will stand in many of our lives as the dividing line of “before COVID” and “after COVID” reminds us that life keeps moving forward, I pray that we can trustingly let go, as the trees let go of their leaves as each leaf dies, not fretting about their season of loss and vulnerability. New leaves will come, but for now, their job is to let go.

And as the little sunflowers that continue to dance with the gusts of cooler air, I pray that we hold on, trusting in each moment that the manna for today is sufficient for today.