Falling Leaves and Evergreens
This week's reflection is written by
Mr. Joseph McDaniel, OSFS
During the autumn season, as I cross the threshold of the front door and embark upon my daily walk to school, I look forward to seeing the leaves begin to fall from the canopy of branches arched over our quiet neighborhood street. The humidity, oh so smothering during the summer, is finally replaced by the refreshment of a cool breeze. My steps along the pavement are accentuated by the crackling flakes of gold beneath my feet. If I was to drive out to the countryside, I would see the hillsides aflame with hues of amber and gold.
On the east coast, this arboreal change of vesture is widespread. On the west coast, the occasional groves of falling leaves are surrounded by a sea of tall cedars, firs, and pines, steadfast in keeping their dark green shades even through the coldest parts of winter.
Upon a recent journey out west, I was reminded that the forests of our continent are represented by these two kinds of tree that are different but equally beautiful. One lets go of its leaves, sees them return to the earth from which they came, and grows new ones each year. The other keeps its boughs thickly adorned throughout the year. Our land would be well decorated with just one kind or the other, but its splendor is magnified when graced with both.
Similarly, our spiritual lives are called to follow the pattern of both falling leaves and evergreens.
At times, the process of spiritual growth requires us to let go of things that we have so carefully nurtured: maybe a method of prayer or spiritual expression upon which we relied earlier in our spiritual lives, maybe a person who we were called to accompany during a particular stretch of their spiritual journey, maybe a work that has been brought to completion or that we are now called to hand on to someone else. Just as leaves fall and return to the ground from which they came, we return all our works into the caring hands of the God who first entrusted them to us as stewards.
At other times, like evergreen trees, we are called to hold on firmly to certain things that must endure, whatever the season: our abiding faith in the presence of God, hope in his providence as we walk toward the future, and love for whomever God places in our path at each moment.
As our forests are robed in leaves that fall and fade, and also by branches that remain ever dressed in green, may our spiritual lives be clothed by a willingness to let go and make room for new growth, and a resolute taking hold of what must last.
