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Autumn's Beauty is But a Glimpse of Eternity

One of the reasons I enjoy fall so much is that it reminds me of God’s promise of heaven that awaits those of us who claim Him as Lord and Savior. How much brighter, more vivid, and alive that eternal place will be! Wow. Some days I’m in awe of the earthly beauty He’s provided, knowing His heavenly kingdom will not compare.

Eternal Perspectives by Sally Bair

Autumn focus

Though autumn tells us winter is on the threshold, it is still my favorite season. My energy level rises like at no other season, as though my five senses are on high alert to the surrounding beauty of fall and its welcome changes in the soft, redolent air. If I were a poet, my pen would be working overtime. Since I’m not, I enjoy reading the inspirational poetry of others.

My mother’s nature poems come to mind, so I’d like to include one of my favorites. It shows me that no matter how many photos I take, none can capture the true beauty of autumn. Although this poem does not mention God as creator, as do most of her other poems, His created handiwork is evident in each line. I hope you’re inspired as you read it.

September and the Artist

by Ruth Bunker Christiansen

No painter’s canvas holds a gem to match September’s sunset hues.

No artist, clever though he be, can catch and hold her azure blues.

Though nearly perfect with his brush, painstaking, spending many hours

Trying to match God’s handiwork, he puts no perfume in his flowers.

A brush with pointed camel’s hair, tracing design of wildblown leaves,

Might catch the poplar’s platinum shade, but not the pattern that it weaves.

The luscious fruit in Autumn’s care tells Nature’s plenty and her waste.

Though canvas pictures purple grapes, no artist yet has painted taste.

The ripple of September’s brook is never in an artist’s hand,

Nor can a painter capture sound of moving water on the sand.

The warmth of sun and chill of night are something oils can never show;

Nor can the artist’s brush portray the heartbeat of a wounded doe.

In early autumn wild geese form, fly through September’s clouds of white.

The artist sets their wings in oil, but not the labor of their flight.

To him who craves a masterpiece, forget your lavishly planned walls.

With time that’s free, take to the woods the little while September calls.

Lord, thank You for the indescribable beauty of autumn, given to us for our pleasure. Cause us each day, each hour to praise and thank You for all Your bountiful gifts. Help us remember that because of Your Son, Jesus’, sacrifice on the cross for our sins, we can enjoy eternity with You, an eternity of greater beauty than You’ve given through autumn’s splendor. In Jesus’ name, amen.

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