10.22.2025 | Ordinary Wednesday

Grace Upon Grace
"From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace."
—John 1:16
 
There’s a chill in the air that confirms Autumn’s arrival. Our first fire of the season crackles in the hearth, warming the room while sunlight spills across the floor. The coffee is brewed, and the little Doodle, having completed her morning walkabout, is curled contentedly in her favorite chair. It’s a gentle, promising start to the day.
 
The Acorn Squash has been harvested. From just four plants in our small urban garden, we gathered a bounty of thirty squash. Grace upon grace. Over the next few weeks, we enter the final harvest season, a time that invites reflection, celebration, and deep gratitude.
 
Gratitude beckons us in during this season of gathering. It reminds us not only of the blessings we receive daily, but also of the sacredness of creation itself. We give thanks for the wisdom the garden offers, quiet, persistent, and generous.
 
I’m looking forward to the rest of the harvest. The Butternut Squash is nearly ripe. The Fall Lettuce is coming along, and the Carrots are ready to be pulled today. As I walk the garden paths, I find myself reminiscing about Spring, when we first mapped out what we hoped to grow. I’m reminded that nothing flourishes without intention, without effort. The garden is a mirror: it reflects the work we’ve done and the grace that meets us there.
 
This October morning whispers a truth I’m trying to live into:
If I want more generosity in the world, I must be more generous.
If I long for kindness and gentleness, I must embody them.
If I seek gratitude, I must give thanks for the abundant grace I receive each day.
 
Nothing happens without the work. But oh, how beautiful the yield when we tend with love.
 
“The secret of life is to let every segment of it produce its own yield at its own pace. Every period has something new to teach us. The harvest of youth is achievement; the harvest of middle-age is perspective; the harvest of age is wisdom; the harvest of life is serenity.

• Joan Chittister