The November chill is creeping in and my potager, along with its generous tenants of chard, beans, and eggplant, is no longer hospitable. It's growing quiet and it's beds are turned down, week by week. The boys and I gather armfuls of the past few months, and let them go to the bin in the side yard.
Winter is coming. And, I am thankful for its quiet reminder: What is dead must be hauled away for new life to come again.
I'll just say it-- I wish it was always green, always vibrant, always in bloom. Who doesn't love a vine LADEN with fruit? Who doesn't crave foliage that announces deep nourished roots? Who doesn't long for sunshine on her face, and never the chill of winter?
"For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it." Hebrews 12:11
So, I roll up my sleeves again and gather more forgotten leaves and shriveled branches. There's no room for all this rubbish...I must make room for what is to come.
Are you in a season of pruning, of discipline, of dying to the old in exchange for the NEW? Friend, if you are, you are in good company. The winter chill may leave you bare, but may I remind you that it also escorts in fresh buds of spring? Hold fast, and let go. Let go of the old and usher in the new. There is no room for the deeds of the flesh when the fullness of Christ seeks to fill you up. (Colossians 2:9-10)
Praise Him for the winter and the sweeping away...Praise Him for what He will put in its place.
"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come." 2 Corinthians 5:17