Fall and Rest

It has been almost two years since I last posted anything on my blog. It's not a coincidence that two years ago, I also began working full-time for the first time ever. Yes, my years at home were busy. Yes, the things I did within my home were and are still important. But somehow a shift to full-time work was bigger than I realized it might be. It's also true that for years my writing centered around my children and the things they would say and do. It's surreal to now be able to say- I have adult children. And for the last several years, their stories have not been mine to tell.

Today a friend mentioned that she's dreading the drop in temps that are predicted to start tomorrow. We've still been enjoying 80 degree weather, shorts and t-shirts, evening walks with the dog and citronella candles on the porch. I can relate to how my friend feels about the next season beginning in earnest. I used to dread fall and winter; the lack of color and warmth about did me in. But then I turned 40 and my perspective changed. I can hear the crickets and geese outside my window- but I don't dread October.

Nature has a rhythm. Spring is full of energy and activity; summer is growth and yields from the garden; fall is the final harvest time of the season and finishing up final preparations before winter; winter is rest with shorter days and cold.

There is something appealing to me when I think about shorter days, cooler weather and time at home with a type of forced rest. I look forward to pulling out the soup recipes, washing up the fuzzy blankets and gaining an extra hour with the time change. My mom once shared that she loved having a baby during the winter, because it gave her an excuse to stay inside and stay home. It was a sense of forced rest that freed her from feeling any obligation to say "yes" to the abundance of requests that came from church, community and family.  I sometimes feel I need an excuse to stay home and rest, too. 

Around mid-summer, a heavy fatigue set in. Part of it was concern for family with health issues, children with life issues and simply being over-committed. Stepping away from a few commitments for several weeks was uncomfortable, but so needed. It gave me margins that I hadn't been tending on my own and helped me to reset boundaries. Coming back to a few of those commitments brought me joy, not dread, and it came from a place of rest that yielded readiness.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  Matthew 11:28-30