Assignment: Write on the topic of ‘Autumn’ in whatever genre you like. (500 words)
Autumn’s Choice
by Ray Burton
Autumn stood in the courtroom and stared at the man who had killed her husband and two daughters. Her intense rage simmered within. She wanted him dead, but not until he had suffered.
Her perpetrator stared back with a cold, callous gaze, trying to incite Autumn to show her anger.
Out of sight to the human eye, God’s angels filled the courtroom surrounding Autumn to protect her in her time of vulnerability. Four lone demons stood alongside the perpetrator, gripped with fear because of the sheer number of angels in the room.
Everyone waited. The pending verdict was as predictable as the sunrise just before dawn. It filled the atmosphere with palpable cries for justice.
But in the waiting, a strange stirring deep within Autumn’s heart. The tugging of the Spirit for compassion. For mercy. Autumn suppressed the thoughts with a determined choice for justice. But the stirring did not cease.
She struggled with the overwhelming sense of God’s desires, wanting to take precedence over her sense of righteousness and justice.
How could you want anything but to destroy this man she argued with God deep within her soul? She struggled with what she termed as, “The God silence” which she had experienced on many
occasions. That experience when you know God has spoken and then says no more as you express your buts and what ifs.
“You know what he has done. How can you expect me to be and feel anything different?” God remained silent. “I want him dead. I want him to suffer for all eternity,” she silently protested to God. “I cannot do it. I will not do it.”
“Which is it?” her conscience questioned. “You cannot or you will not?” “Both she protested with an angry rebellion.” “Well, I cannot help you if you decide you will not, but I can help you if you tell Me, you cannot and allow me to help you.”
Autumn decided she would play the silent game on God. But God simply increased her awareness of His desires. She held on for a few moments, more determined not to be merciful.
Again, God increased her awareness of His desires, adding to it her awareness of His love and mercy for her.
Barely moments passed, but it seemed like an eternity to Autumn as she continued to stare at her perpetrator in response to his taunting stare at her.
“Okay,” said Autumn to God in her heart. “What do you want me to do?”
She immediately felt as if she was hanging on a cross. Not held by nails but by the love of God for the man that stood across the courtroom. She immediately felt God’s mercy for this man, who
had killed her family. A mercy that said, “He should be loved and set free.”
Her words, “I can’t,” turned to a soft whimper as her God embraced her and said, “We can.”
She totally surrendered to the desires of her God. He set them both free. Two people left the courtroom free that day. One headed for prison and Autumn for freedom.
Autumn Leaves
By Deborah McDermott
Adele stooped to retrieve a perfectly formed leaf and sighed. There was a time when she’d loved the golden months of autumn, but today the myriads of fiery reds, russets and yellows made her feel as sad and discarded as the piles of fallen leaves in her driveway. To make matters worse, the wind suddenly rose and scattered the leaves in all directions.
“So much for sweeping them up!” Adele muttered as she pulled her cardigan more closely around her shoulders and retreated indoors.
Plonking down in her favourite chair, she stared at the yellow leaf for a long time before putting it between the pages of her Bible, along with the many other pretty autumn leaves she had collected over the years. It seemed a pity that something so lovely was no longer good for anything except being a bookmark.
Ah, but is being a bookmark in the most important Book of all a bad thing?
Adele’s eyes widened. She did not need to ask who was speaking for she knew His voice well.
“I suppose not,” she admitted “but it’s not exactly what the leaf was created for, is it?”
Who’s the Creator here? You or me?
Adele felt herself blush, but before she could apologise, the Lord continued speaking.
Do you know why I created autumn, Adele? To prepare the trees for rest and the new growth that will come in spring. The old leaves fall to make way for the new leaves and the harvest of fruit that will come in due season. In other words, the old leaves fall so that the tree can continue to live and produce. Do you understand this?
Adele’s eyes filled with tears. She was like a fallen leaf after all. Not much use to anyone anymore! But God wasn’t finished with her yet.
Clearly you don’t understand, He remonstrated gently. You may be in the autumn years of your life when your body requires you to slow down, but this does not mean you are useless. Fallen leaves are of great use in that they step aside to make way for the new. Likewise, I want you to pass on all you have learned and achieved to others so they can grow into the wonderful tree that you are. Yes, you heard me correctly. In my economy, you are both a fallen leaf making way for others and a beautiful tree that will continue to bear good fruit through what you impart. Much like cross-pollination. All you need to do is allow my Spirit to work through you and water the seed you implant in others.
A light suddenly went on in Adele’s understanding. She wasn’t too old after all. She was needed. She was wanted. She was inspired! Suddenly, autumn was once again her golden season, a time to rest, reflect and get ready to produce a great harvest.
“Thank You, Lord,” she whispered. In response, the sun broke through the clouds and smiled.
Autumn Musings by Lynda Otter
I love every season but I am particularly fond of autumn. Leaves in warm colours of
red, orange and yellow drift in the wind and richly carpet our lawn. I crunch through
them as I make my way to my garden to ensure all my plants are tucked safely under
a layer of mulch. My husband hates the leaves as he is very particular about his
lawns!
I love walking in the park and find God in the autumn beauty of my surroundings.
This quote seems very apt; “I loved autumn, the one season of the year that God
seemed to have put there just for the beauty of it.”
I love the smell of autumn but now the neighbours are lighting their fires in the crisp,
cool afternoon—I rush to get my washing in and wonder why they have to light their
fires so early in the day. I quite like the smell of wood smoke as it floats in the still
air—just not on my washing.
I love the mellow light that floods my lounge in late afternoon; comforting, golden,
transporting me to another time and place, evoking pleasant memories of stories told
to me by my mother and father; stories of other times, stories that are a part of my
history. I explore a feeling of nostalgia as I browse through sepia photographs in old
family albums.
I love autumn’s promise of cold rainy days to come when I can hibernate with a book
in the warmth of my home and refuge, as the nights draw in. A time of winding down
and resting before spring brings forth new fruit.
People might say I am in the autumn of my life? Yet autumn is not just about decay
and coming death, but is also symbolic of harvest and plenty. As I reflect on this, I
see the plenty in my life—my God, my family, my church, my writing. I pray that even
now, my life will bring forth new fruit and a harvest of plenty for God, after a period of
rest, reflection, prayer and revelation during this autumn season. After all, God has
promised in Psalm 92:14 that “they will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh
and green.” So I will bear fruit. I will stay fresh. I will stay green.
“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have
made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” It says in
Isaiah 46:4 so I’m pretty much depending on that. So yes, I love autumn and I love
the season I am in and am excited about what God has for me to accomplish to His
glory in the coming years.
AUTUMN’S JOY
To everything there is a season. Ecclesiastes 3:1
By Pamela Lowrey
Effortlessly the door clicks open revealing God’s peaceful dormitory lined with four little beds… Autumn, Winter and Spring are tucked up and sound asleep. Summer staggers in exhausted from heatstroke and collapses onto his bed.
God points to Autumn. “Okay! Up you get. It’s your turn now.” Autumn yawns and stretches. He grins. “Okay, Boss!” and scampers outdoors. For Autumn the fun part is about to begin. He fills his lungs to capacity and gently blows. At first nothing much happens. He observes the myriad of leaves before him that are so different—thick, thin, delicate, twisted, big, small, high, low, damaged, polished and perfect. Autumn starts shaking their comfort zone and blows them all. Reds and yellows, browns and black, patterned and plain, tri-coloured and golden, featherlike and transparent, regal and velvet, spotted and dotted.
He huffs and puffs like his favourite character, the wolf in The Three Little Pigs, threatening and disturbing them with a loud roar. “I’ll huff and I’ll puff till you all fall down!” He works on them slowly, gradually weakening their hold as he blows colder air vigorously from all directions now. The leaves are growing tired and are at his mercy … shattered, battered, torn, muddied, snapping, crackling, flurrying, scurrying, mangled, tangled, dropping, fluttering down to the gutters, whirling and twirling around with that distinctive leafy crunch sound, ripped and worn upon the ground. Forming dizzy heaps on the streets, moving like marching teams called to the left and then “About Turn” to the right as if directed by an invisible conductor.
Blocking drains, caught in gutters. some people start to mutter about the mess. That causes them distress. The practical ones get out in their gardens to rake and sweep and sweat and if it’s raining they get wet. Delighted artists search to find colourful shapely ones to draw and paint. Children shriek and laugh grabbing handfuls throwing them with great abandon at each other. They jump in the heaps and sweep them with their feet, stuffing them in their pockets. Kittens join in to chase the leaves choosing one to stalk and pounce and trounce upon. Older cats stretch leaping to catch six at once as they sail elusively in the air as Autumn teasingly tantalises them and then jerks them out of reach to lie dormant.
Autumn eventually tires and changes the game play. He cools the temperature until one solitary leaf remains like a semi-furled flag attached to a small twig upon one solitary branch on one solitary tree. No matter what he does, it refuses to budge, to let go and fall.
Autumn wraps himself up in a colourful scarf. He looks around and starts to laugh. My works’s complete , my job is done Except for you little leaf—you’ve won! So it’s back to his little bed and sleeping space.
And now, Winter arises to take Autumn’s place.