My granddaughter walked in front as we made our way down the steep hill to the beach. Her excited voice resonated in the woods surrounding us. “I see blue water!” she exclaimed as we came through the forest near the beach.
But then, with the highest level of disappointment that five-year-olds have perfected, she cried out, “Where’s the creek?”
Most of the year, the creek runs into the bay. When she’d visited in late June—we still had enough creek to have driftwood boat races. Now it was completely dry.
“How am I going to play?” she wailed. She’s also at the age that if something was fun before, then you must repeat exactly everything you did.
I explained how the summer had been so hot that the creek dried up. It needed the autumn rains to fill it again. She folded her arms and frowned disapprovingly.
She wanted her creek—but a change of season is needed first.
Doesn’t it seem that more than the weather is dry? It feels like humanity is a bit parched too. It doesn’t take a whole lot to spark a forest fire in these conditions. Same with us, sadly.
As much as I want the summer days to linger longer, it’s time for the autumn rains—for the land and for our souls too.
Autumn is a comfort season. Sweaters and cozy slippers. Fall foods like roasted butternut squash soup, hot cornbread, and fresh applesauce for dessert.
So, as this new season begins, I pray that any dry creek beds in your life—whether it’s a dry creek of health, finances, career struggles, school, or relationships will be fully replenished. May autumn refresh you.
Yet he proved he is real by showing kindness, by giving you rain from heaven and crops at the right times, by giving you food and filling your hearts with joy. Acts 14:17