What Autumn Teaches Us about Beautiful Endings
By Hannah Benson
Bible Reading:
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven” (Ecclesiastes 3:1 ESV)
Autumn has always been one of my favorite seasons. Crisp, colorful leaves crunching underneath my feet, hot apple cider, pumpkins, corn mazes, and the list goes on. Perhaps it also helps that my birthday falls during these autumn months, ensuring that even as a child, this was the season I favored most.
I have such fond memories of growing up: playing dodgeball outside with my siblings and dad in the dark and watching gorgeous Appalachian mountain sunsets through our kitchen window as my family and I ate a cozy supper of soup and cornbread.
But as we say hello to autumn, we inevitably have to say goodbye to the previous season of summer: to long evenings playing outside before dusk, to cool dips in the water, and to hiking up mountains in the blazing heat (well, maybe saying goodbye to the humidity isn't such a bad thing!)
Yet as much as I absolutely love autumn, when I first thought about writing this devotional, fear squeezed my heart. God usually calls me to write what I’ve first gone through myself, so what this autumn might I have to say goodbye to in order to write this article?
One evening before supper, I stood in my bedroom, gazing at the dreariness outside.
“God?” I whispered. “What are you teaching me? What beautiful ending do You want me to write about?”
Perhaps something I had to surrender? A closed door? Something God had taught me, either recently or in years past?
Then I realized deep down what God had been teaching me. Sometimes, we think beautiful endings need to come from losing something or someone we care deeply about, or from a door that slammed shut in our face, that God will use for our good.
While God does rewrite tragedies into beautiful endings, what if beautiful endings also come from letting go of wearisome things?
Earlier this year, I was striving, afraid of losing what mattered to me, and afraid of truly surrendering. I gripped my own expectations with an iron fist.
I wanted to surrender. Knew I needed to.
But I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried.
Then, a couple of months ago, God gently told me to “Release.”
Oh, if only it were that easy.
I realized that there was absolutely nothing I could do to change what I could see.
“God, change my heart,” I whispered.
Slowly, bit by bit, God unraveled the expectations I had and allowed me to release what I clung to.
Surrender isn’t something we can accomplish with our own human willpower. It is something the Holy Spirit needs to work in our hearts. When we stop striving, God’s grace accomplishes within us what our flesh cannot.
As summer drew to a close, so did the expectations I clung to with an iron fist. That’s not to say I don’t still struggle sometimes, but as I reflect on where I was emotionally and spiritually earlier this year, I recognize that things I’d thought I’d lost were not lost when they are surrendered to the Father’s hand.
Intersecting Faith & Life:
When this year started, if I’m being honest, I looked at my circumstances and thought God couldn’t possibly change things. Which is wrong, I know. After all, the impossible is possible with God.
Either that or I assumed God wouldn’t change things.
But as the months passed, and spring turned into summer, and summer turned into autumn, God did so many things I once thought impossible, changing my heart before He began to change some of my circumstances.
Like the trees yield their leaves unto the earth in order to pave the way for spring, so does the Lord ask us to yield what we’ve held onto to make way for something new.
Sometimes, the new is completely different. It might mean saying goodbye to the “good things” in our lives to make way for something better. Sometimes, it means letting go of the heavy burdens and fears we were never meant to carry in the first place. Other times, He invites us to trust Him and watch Him do what we were almost too afraid to hope for.
In John 15, Jesus tells His disciples that we are the branches, He is the vine, and His Father is the vinedresser. The branches cannot bear fruit on their own apart from the vine; neither can we bear fruit apart from Jesus. Often, the Lord must prune away not only our sin and self-reliance, but even good things we cling to, so we may continually become more like Him and bear even more fruit. Yes, the pruning can be painful, but the result is more beautiful than we could ever imagine.
Every season has its own kind of beauty. Whether we lost something or someone dear to us or God stripped away the fears, self-reliance, or sin that held us back from embracing true life, every ending is made beautiful in His perfect time.
Pray with me:
Dear Father God, thank You for pruning the parts of me that do not please You so that I can bear fruit pleasing to You. Please help me to trust You even when the pruning is painful or not always pleasant. You are a good Father. In Jesus’s Name, Amen.
How did today’s devotional speak to you? Share your thoughts in the Crosswalk Devotional discussion.
Photo Credit: ©iStock/Getty Images Plus/SrdjanPav
Check out fantastic resources on Faith, Family, and Fun at Crosswalk.com!
Listen to The Love Offering!
Encouraging you to love God, others, and yourself—one faithful step at a time.
Each week, host Rachael Adams sits down with inspiring women who are making a difference right where they are. Through honest conversations, biblical wisdom, and real-life stories, you'll be reminded that your everyday acts of love—no matter how small—matter deeply to God.
You were created to live a life of impact.
You were made to be a love offering.
Was this resource helpful? Add Christianity.com as a trusted source for Biblical content.
