November Leaves

In the spring they are fresh, lush, and vibrant green. They look like life. In the summer the green deepens to a darker shade and the unrelenting sun, storm-driven winds, and hungry insects take their toll. Yet, the shade they give still invites the hot and tired; and the umbrella they make shelters the pedestrian surprised by a cloudburst. In October, their glory is manifest and for a few weeks the plumage of the trees rivals that of any rare and exotic bird. And then comes November. In November, the color fades. In November, the life is gone. In November, all that is left is for the spent leaves to shake loose from their twigs and limbs and to waft and tumble down—down onto the street, into the gutter, onto our yards, into our breezeways. In November, leaves are nothing but nuisance.

But November leaves are not altogether done. They have at least one more task. As they litter our lawns and overflow our compostable yard bags they serve as messengers. They declare the stark and inescapable reality of the brevity and fragility of life. We may balk at the message and resent the messenger, but we can’t deny the truth. In November, the sober and sad truth descends on us like the leaves themselves: life does not last. What starts unspoiled and full of promise always unravels and collapses into death and decay. The brown and gray leaves that crunch and crackle around our feet as we walk, that carpet our grass and flowerbeds, and that choke the downspouts on our houses will not let us forget. Life does not last. Death is coming. It’s not a happy message. But it is the truth. The all-too-brief life of a leaf is only slightly shorter than the life of a human. November leaves force us to face facts.

The leaves of late autumn do their duty and deliver their message. But their message is limited and partial. We need to look elsewhere for an answer to their severe and unsettling communication. We need to look to the Creator of the leaves and the Creator of our lives. His word to us is not hopelessness; it is not despair; it is not defeat; it is not death. His word to us is life—new life better than any spring. His word is new life in the reality of his promise. November leaves have their message to tell, but God’s Word has a better and fuller message of reconciliation, restoration, and renewal. The truth of God’s Word changes everything and helps us bear everything—even the hard reality of November leaves.