It surprises me every year. The long, hot summer in this part of the world begs me to forget what its cool breeze offers. Memory of spring melts in the heat of summer, and the memory of fall has long since been replaced by the reality of salty sweat dripping down my face. And then, suddenly, as if out of nowhere, the sizzling sidewalks are carpeted in beautiful leaves, and the sun no longer scorches, but beams kindly.
Astonishing and yet predictable, fall follows summer every year. I know this, and have known this since grade school. Somehow still it catches me by surprise. If only, in the dead and still heat of August, I would learn to anticipate and hope for the Fall that is just peeking around the corner. Instead, I dread stepping outside, and am short-sighted enough to only see the heat waves rising on the ground right in front of me.
What a travesty! How blind are my eyes? How faulty is my memory? How typical is my soul?
The goodness of the Lord comes as assuredly as Fall, and yet, once again, I fail to see it for the miry pit I am in. How blind are my eyes? How faulty is my memory? How typical is my soul? His goodness has come to me time and time again, and yet, each new blessing comes as a surprise, and in between blessings I lose hope.
Oh for a soul that waits expectantly for the wonders of Fall! Oh for a soul that waits expectantly for Him! He will come.
I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.