Lesson From A Leaf

Thousands of leaves are covering the ground. Russet, carmine, lurid, sepia, amber... even spelling the colors is pleasurable, much less seeing them everywhere I turn. It is my favorite time of year for so many reasons, but seeing the season freshly through the eyes of my growing children is a joy in its own right. 

- - - 

I had just unbuckled my youngest from her carseat, and she took off running through the leaves. Abruptly, she leaned down and picked a leaf off of the ground. "Mommy, LOOK! It's so pretty!" she said, with the exuberant sweetness she's known for. She held the leaf in her hand, and traced the stem with her fingers. She was captivated.

Thousands of leaves on the ground, and she picked that one. It was endearing and precious, and then her little hand reached out to share it with me. The rapture on her face is beyond the telling. She offered that broken little leaf to me like the treasure it suddenly had become, just by being chosen by her.  

And right there on the lawn, the Lord pierced my heart.

The leaf didn't have a striking color or a perfect shape. It showed wear, and it wasn't freshly fallen. It had been trampled, and had holes in it. But she held that leaf like it was a diamond to be treasured, or a baby to rock to sleep. The leaf was special because she picked it.

And this is how He loves us. 

We were fallen. We were nothing. We were, in fact, dead in our transgressions. He saw us, picked us, and offers us new life and worth in His care. All of this is Scriptural, and yet in the harder or darker moments of life, I sometimes struggle to fully rest in this truth. But there it was again, pronounced simply by a leaf in the hand of my daughter. 

As a busy mom of two littles, I've had seasons when I certainly felt prettier than this. I've had seasons when I was more confident, more rested, more fit, more "put-together". I've had seasons when I had more time, more leisure, more control. I'm having a blast being a mommy, but the joy can easily be stolen by those quick glances in the mirror or those mornings when coffee just doesn't cut through the weariness the way I wish it would. In those moments, I need the truth of God's love to saturate my soul yet again, and again. And again. 

It is God's love that makes us lovely. Everything I hold dear, is because of His goodness. The seasons will change, but God's mercies never fail. The autumn leaves are proof. 

One of many. Nothing special. Dead and fallen... Delighted in. Cherished. Chosen. 

This is how He loves us.