Fall in Eugene. As the change of season is laden with color and crisp and fresh and frost, I have also been clinging onto the idea of change - of becoming. A putting off and a throwing on. Repentence. A turning from. A clinging to. I am thankful for the hope to become that which is more fully human, whom God has created me to be, to be more like Jesus. To be like Jesus? It sounds ludicrous to even mention. Truly, such a task is far too great.
When I scroll through these images of my people, I feel a deep gratitude but also a stabbing incapability to serve and love. I have this great task to be Jesus to them. And I know, very well, that in order to let Jesus rule in my life, I must be dying, and turning, and clinging, and worshipping and communing. The glory of these faces, these bodies, this happiness, this season, reminds me of the beauty and goodness and glory of God and causes me to run, run, run to Him.