this beautiful death

It's interesting how you wake up one day and it's completely different than the one before.  It's gotten cool here in the foothills of the Smokies.  I just woke up one day and had the urge to throw on a hoodie.  A walk to the van was deserving of shoes rather than the flip flops I had grown accustomed to.  When I breathe I get of a sense of refreshment like a dip in the pool after a long days work in the yard.  

The change isn't only in the brush of the breeze...it's also evident on the fringe of the leaves.  It's like a small taste of what's yet to come;  almost as if the trees are restraining themselves from bursting forth in jubilation of finally having some new color.  Much like a teenage girl when she's told it's time for a new wardrobe.  I can feel the giddiness now.  Can you?

What shouldn't be lost in this changing of seasons is the reality of death.  Not to sound too morbid, but isn't that what all this is about?  The leaves lose their chloroform unveiling the true hue of each God-made leaf, which is quickly followed by death.  This death is beautiful for those who stop to notice.  That's kind of a weird phrase...since when is death beautiful?

It is when we throw off our old self and put on the new.  It's beautiful to realize that we were dead in our trespasses and sin, but we have been made alive in Christ.  How about when we realize that we are a new creation...the old has passed away?  Our old self must die in order for us to have a new life in Christ.  Now that's a beautiful death!  Putting to death our own desires in order to be in line with the desires of Christ...have you ever heard of anything more beautiful?

Sure...the canvas of the Smokies is going to be a wonderful thing to behold when it succumbs to its beautiful death, but it's in that moment I pray I'm reminded of its meaning by the Painter.