Lessons in Leaves

Time and again I’m reminded we don’t always get what we want, but we always get what we need. This lesson was re-enforced once more – this time by the sound the leaves make as they flitter-flit in the breeze.

The gentle rustling noises came to me as I sat outback of my home, soaking up sun and recuperating from over-exercising my worn-out body. I heard amid the light snapping of those leaves the realization that I am and never will be anything more than what I am.

This caused me to look about and see how everything I’ve worked to develop such as my house, with its worn and weathered siding, needing a fresh coat of paint and nails pounded back in to the weeds that manage to grow strong in my otherwise manicured lawn. All that I saw has deteriorated and needs the human touch to stay in usable order as an organized society desires.

Then it dawned on me that the tree I sat under – with a little water and a change of season – has again transformed itself into something bright and friendly. It needs no intervention from me – or from anyone for that matter.

These things I’ve observed tell me that I am insignificant – that all men are insignificant — especially in the face of nature, which is God’s expression on earth. It’s the kind of reminder I needed.