10.10.2025 | Ordinary Friday

The Grace of Letting Go
Autumn is my favorite time of year that invites reflection, especially in the garden. It’s when I pause to consider what thrived, what faltered, and what lessons quietly bloomed beneath the surface. The shifting light and cooler air seem to whisper slow down, take stock, breathe.
 
This year is wrapping up, and this old gardener is wondering where the days have gone. My “to-do” list still lingers, half-checked and hopeful. Meanwhile, the Dogwood tree outside my window is shedding its leaves in shades of amber and orange. As I watch them drift to the ground, I’m reminded to release some of the burdens I’ve been carrying. Letting go, like the trees do, is its own kind of grace.
 
Autumn is nature’s gentle nudge that change is inevitable—and beautiful. It’s the season of the great turning, where endings and beginnings swirl together in golden light. Lessons lie scattered like leaves, waiting to be gathered.
 
"Anyone who thinks fallen leaves are dead has never watched them dancing on a windy day." –Shira Tamir
 
Autumn’s transformation is in full force now—leaves ablaze in red, orange, and yellow. This visual symphony is more than seasonal charm; it’s a poignant reminder that change can be breathtaking. The falling leaves teach us to release what no longer serves, to make space for rest, renewal, and the quiet promise of what’s to come.
 
"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven." —Ecclesiastes 3:1
 
Autumn reminds us that even in the shedding, there is sacred timing. The garden doesn’t mourn the falling leaves—it trusts the rhythm of renewal. In our own lives, we’re invited to do the same: to release what no longer serves, to rest in the quiet, and to believe that new growth will come. The beauty of change lies not just in what we see, but in learning to let go.