A mountain on fire...

I don't think I'll ever get used to Fall in the Smokies. This is my fifth year living in East Tennessee during fall, and it never ceases to take my breath away. I just got back from an early evening stroll with my kiddo & hubband, and the beauty that people from around the country travel here to see is literally my backyard.

It's amazing the shades of red, orange, auburn, and gold in one place. And our Creator is behind this brilliant tapestry of color...the Mastermind behind this flaming sea of trees is passionate for us. Mindboggling.

Who knew that death could be so glorious? The death of summer, death of leaves, the hibernation of the living...who knew death could be so spectacular? And yet, isn't that the very parallel of our spirituality? Death to self, death nonetheless, but in all its glory, we are painted in colors portraying the Creator. In our deaths to sin and bondage and, frankly, ourselves, a flame of breathtaking beauty is ignited, and in an instant, we become privy to the masterpiece, part of the art our God, so incredibly creative, passionately and intensely -- and continuously -- creates.

And yet while the beauty of Autumn ushers in Winter, the season of bareness and often harshness, we are ushered into a season of Life, as if our seasons work backwards. Instead of Winter, isn't it a little like Summer vacation? A season of rest, adventure, a reason to play. Not that there is no work to be done, because like I've said before, a daily relationship with the Lord is truly work (not unenjoyable, but yes, I said work), but rather work that comes with and from a source of purpose and passion and wonder. Maybe I'm reaching with the whole seasons metaphor, but you get the idea.

Anyway, any non-Tennesseeans out there reading this, I highly recommend one day making it to our little corner of the world during this time of year. You will without a doubt make a memory that just "sparkles."