Tears and Pumpkin Pancakes

Leaves are just starting to turn here in Indy.  To welcome fall, there is plenty of fall baking.  I’ve made applesauce, apple crisp, pumpkin bars, a breakfast pumpkin porridge made with butternut squash, and pumpkin pancakes.  In our apartment we are burning an oatmeal cookie candle almost daily.  We now are buying fall flowers for our kitchen table, filled with hues of orange, yellow, red, accented with a deep purple.  Spices of choice are cinnamon, nutmeg, cumin and cloves.

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Yes, fall is beginning in all of its glory.  And I love fall so much.

But I must also admit that fall means acknowledging a slow (but maybe fast) descent into winter. Into hibernation. Stillness. Cold. Isolation. For everything there is a season.

And in this subtle, beautiful autumn, I’m starting to grieve.  Morning tears surface as I acknowledge that I’m walking away from teaching.  I’m leaving a profession I thought that I loved.  I cry because I’m sad that I have an autoimmune disease and it feels like some days I spend all of my energy trying to manage my environment.  I’m not as flexible as I wish I could be.  I grieve as I fight to leave my old self behind: one that wants to defend myself at all costs, to please others, simply to conform and fit in.

As I eat my pumpkin pancakes and wipe the tears from my eyes, I’m reminded that I’m being remade.  It’s hard work, painful and lonely, yet I’m being shaped into someone only the Father knows.

What are you enjoying this autumn season?

What are you grieving? How are you changing?

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