This joyful feeling within; the secrets lingering in the autumnal breezes, the voices of (angels?) in the silent garden... and then all the bird songs there are to be and the last of the roses intermingling with crimson and orange and deep burgundy leaves falling down the trees in a manner of rainbow showers. The end of summer and beginning of Autumn—it always happen; this joyful feeling exploding from some secret source within, this yearning which impels me to dance amidst falling leaves and to raise my hands towards heavens in gratitude and thanksgivings.
It’s like living inside a dream… and how strange (and comforting) the fact that I haven’t shed the amount of tears I had promised myself I would shed when alone in the garden. It is true that my heart aches terribly when leaving behind my loved ones, when I think of them and think of how miserably short life is and how I’m wasting precious time away from them. Yet, I haven’t cry. I refuse to surrender to misery. And it amazes me—this new stoutness; a most unexpected thing, I should say; for it had never occurred to me this strength could possibly exist in me.
And how marvelous what God’s grace can do in us and for us humans. How extraordinary God’s presence in our life is. It is the element which controls my fears and turn around my frailties; and I suspect it is also the reason of these surprising qualities: Acceptance and self-control. Gifts, which I had until recently assumed unattainable.
How long has it taken for me to grow in character and trust God in such significant matters? 33 years exactly to the date—since the day I left my childhood home. The yearning has always been there, and it will always be. But I’m learning to live in the trust that brings surrender.
Perhaps, that’s what the apostle Paul was trying to teach us when he said: “Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will? (Romans 12:1-2).” Perhaps.