Soon they will be gone

In the waning days of October, I find myself in a reflective and somewhat pensive mood. Summer is gone, and the days are getting short. Life is ebbing all around me. Soon a killing frost will destroy the beautiful flowers of summer. Fall crops are being harvested, and the fields are being readied for winter. Very soon the snows will cover the brown fields with a blanket of white, the color of death.

I reached the age of seventy this past April. I know that the vast majority of my days are behind me. I think of the lyrics of that wonderful song: "Oh, it's a long, long time from May to December, but the days grow short when you reach September. The autumn weather turns the leaves to flame, but I haven't got time for the waiting game."

There are so many things on my agenda, and so little time left with which to achieve my goals. Yet, I find myself with a decreasing pool of energy with which to complete my agenda. So it becomes necessary to re-evaluate that agenda, and to institute a selection process.

Perhaps nature provides a model for that selection. Take the lowly wasp as an example. Only a very few survive the winter. Yet each year a few hearty souls remain to repopulate the world's wasp supply. As a matter of fact, that natural selection is what keeps the species strong. Take the lowly dandelion as another example. The plant dies completely in the fall. Only those tiny seeds that were blown away by the winds of summer survive under a blanket of snow. In the spring they germinate and repopulate my lawn with a lovely coat of yellow.

It behooves me to spend my time with those things that really matter. So much of what I do serves no purpose but to kill time. What a waste! However, I spent a lot of time this past summer reviving an old passion from my youth. I have begun to read again. For the past several years, I have been on a spiritual quest. This summer I have read books by Thomas Merton, Bishop John Shelby Spong, Marcus Borg, Jack Nelson-Pallmyer, and Walter Wink to name a few. With the writings of the new theologians, I have found a new foundation for my belief in a compassionate and non-violent God. I have discovered anew that completion of my agenda is not terribly important. It is not even very important if I achieve much of God's agenda. Achievement of goals is not the name of the game. The name of the game is remaining faithful.

And so, as the days dwindle down, I have indeed found time for the waiting game. I spent most of my life fretting about achievement. Now I am beginning to find time for reflection and re-evaluation. I know that I cannot hide from death like the wasp, but perhaps like the dandelion, I can leave behind a few seeds that will somehow survive the winter and bring forth new life in the spring. Just as the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame, the autumn of life brings forth a touch of gold that portends the coming of springtime.

Prayer: Thank you, God, for the abundant life and for the tempering of our busy-ness with periods of reflection. Amen.

Copyright © October 17, 2003 by Jay D Weaver