Autumn God, earth teaches me by her natural turning from one season to another. As she enters into the dying and rising cycle, she welcomes the changes. May I be open to the teachings in this season of autumn and turn, as autumn, does, toward opportunities for my spiritual transformation.
When I accept only the beautiful and reject the tattered, torn parts of who I am, when I treat things that are falling apart as my enemies, walk me among the dying leaves. Let them tell me about their power to re-energize the earth’s soil by their decomposition and decay.
When I fear the loss of my youthfulness and the reality of my aging, turn my face to the brilliant colours of October trees. Open my spirit to the mellow resonance of autumn sunsets. Brush your love past my heart with the beauty of golden leaves twirling from the autumn trees.
When I refuse to wait with the mystery of the unknown and when I struggle to control rather than let life evolve, wrap me in the darkening days of November. Encourage me to enter into the stillness and silent mystery, to wait patiently for clarity and wisdom.
When I grow tired of using my gifts to benefit others, take me to the autumned fields where earth freely yields the bounty of her summer. Let me become aware of how she allows her lands to be stripped clean so her fruitfulness will be a source of nourishment.
When I resist efforts to warm a relationship that has grown stale by my chilly indifference or resistance, let me feel the first hard freeze of autumn’s breath and the death that this coldness brings to greening things.
When I neglect to care for myself and become totally absorbed in life’s activities, let me see how animals gather sustenance and provide for their winter. Take me inside the caves of those who hibernate and remind me of my contemplative nature.
When I fight unwanted and unsought changes and when I seek to keep things just as they are, place me on the wings of birds flying south for another season. Gather their spirit of freedom into my heart. Let me be willing to leave my well satisfied place of comfort for the discomfort of the long flight into the unknown.
Thank you, God of transformation, for all these lessons that the autumned earth teaches me.
Pg 212 Out of the Ordinary, by Joyce Rupp
http://www.joycerupp.com/ordinary.html
