Autumn’s Dappled Light

It’s been a long yawn to full Autumn in Virginia. Trees have hesitated to blush but few have succumbed to their eventual fiery reds and yellows. This season seems hesitant to drop its leaves, although that will come by the bushelfuls, but for now October holds on, unwilling to reveal its wintery stark brown nakedness of bared forests. 

And I’m good with that. For although the weather feels so right, not too hot, not too cold, I know all too soon blustery days are waiting. I’m not quite ready for another season. I’m not sure my heart wants to face those quickly turning calendar pages, or the months that morph into years. I’m not sure what another stage of life holds, and there is always a bit of fear for what might be lurking on its next page.

I walked today on my usual path. Light played through the thick trees that lined either side. Dappled light, rich with translucent splotches of red, gold, and yellow set against full greens. Above their swaying tops, the depth of Fall’s sky blues dizzied me. It was like looking into an ocean.

My thoughts as I walked had been quite naturally, on me. My life, my troubles, my issues. Even my whispered prayers centered on me, myself and I. My needs, my fears, my wants. But as I passed through patches of dappled light, my tenacious inward grip loosened.

Renewed focus on Christ molds and shapes what and how we see ourselves and everything around us. It exchanges self-awareness by deepening Creator-awareness.

Laying self down gives freedom to lift Him up.

Life on our earthly walk is filled with dappled light and shadow. We are tantalized by those bright moments, the “taste and see that the Lord is good,” times when we want to throw out our arms and reach our hands upward to exclaim goodness of the Lord with faith and joy.Laying self down gives freedom to lift Him up. Share on X

But then a cloud crosses our path. A need is unmet. We sense loss. A misunderstanding robs us of joy. Relationships sour. Sorrow twists our path. And gloominess passes over our upturned faces. It obscures light. It robs the beauty and joy surrounding us. And we look downward.

As I weaved through the dappled light on this afternoon’s walk, I found myself stopping to gaze around and above. Dancing light filtering down reminded me of how very like the bright and dark of my walk with Jesus.

As my eyes adjust to darker things, my eyes squint and my heart wants to protect myself, to make things better for me. I want to pacify and calm the quiver of soul and body. But Jesus calls me to look elsewhere. He wants my heart to look up, to center Him first in my core.

Exalting Him, lifting Him as Most High, that place where He rightfully belongs, relinquishes self. For both cannot coexist at the highest point. Worship is about Him, not about me.

In His Light, I rediscover the contentedness for which I long. It is where I belong, where I am meant to be in each new season He gives. Here, with both light and shadow vying, I discover again the glorious grace He abundantly pours.

I will see through dappled light in this life. Today clearly, tomorrow perhaps not so much. Shadows flicker, but one day that will change.

“Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.’” John 8:12 ESV

Dappled light reminds me to gaze upward. He is the Light. I taste the sunshined-joy. I feel His promise.

* Feature Photo by Philip Schroeder