November

Falling slowly, amid the crips of November air, I watched as it swept to the ground. The first leaf to make its presence over East Texas. 

New colors are coming out of hiding. They're delicate, careful not to make an abrasive entrance over the piney trees. The evergreen woods always know when to handover their turn and allow room for the brown honey that glazes across the town. It is a graceful transition and one that I make sure to keep my eyes wide open for. 

In Los Angeles, Autumn doesn’t sit the same way it does here. Perhaps it’s the humid heat relieving us from pressure or the anticipation that the sweet sound of Spring always comes after the cold months. But November always brings with it a sense of turning over, preparation, and reflection as we prepare for new. Inner warmth begins to settle, and somehow, as the leaves blanket sidewalks, there is time. 

Sudden change entered our world in 2020. It stomped all across our country without warning or a simple greeting. Many people, including myself, are desperate to welcome a new year. But as the hurried race to 2021 begins, I wonder about the in-between months and the preparation to foster as we settle into the crisp air. In October, I turned 30. In November, millions of Americans will elect a president to sit at the house that leads our nation. And December comes giving us a month of settling in to the new and saying good-bye to the old.

We are always in transition. 

I’m aggressive in my quest for change, chasing new goals, and embracing the next season ahead. I adapt to the new by morphing into whatever it may ask of me. This year, as women across my community ask about my desires for 30, I'm left with a different response than usual. I want presence - a calling to be grounded while turning a new leaf. To live diligently each day and trust that daily disciplines lead to results.  It could be true that this is more of a mandate than a desire. A need instead of a want. A halt to the usual one-thing after-the-other pace. 

As the yellow fire settles on the trees above, I've been thinking about this season of transition. The desperation behind it, the desire for it, and the need to be diligent before it arrives. 

How we long for the new, without ever being faithful to the current. 

We have been so desperate for a new year to change our lives all the while lacking the diligence to continue to work out this one. 

You are asking God to give you a new job even though you half-ass the one you currently have. You tell yourself if you had that one, you would be better off without a single thanks for the one already given. You want to make an impact on the world, but you have no clue how to talk to your spouse. When you get married, you’ll be secure even though you currently lack confidence on your own. You will be humble with future success as your ego currently inflates over today. If you just had more time you would most certainly achieve those goals, meanwhile, you neglect the time of 4,5,6 in the morning because it’s too painful to wake up that early. 

Is it possible that a calling to be faithful to what is in front of us can be the missing ingredient that prepares us for a transition? Because what we do today carries over to the new. 

Have we truly been a good steward of the time, resources, blessings, finances, and community that is placed before us? If not, then what has us convinced that we can be trusted with 2021? What if you already have the tools to succeed, you just don’t have the discipline to show up to them? 

I say this as a woman who lives in a constant state of hurry. I felt the calling to slow down as the Autumn air began to settle in. I walked on a trail painted by nature and noticed the subtle turning of the leaves. A slow dripping of auburn colors settles over the green. They’re preparing for the full coverage of a brand new season. But it is slow and each day the colors get stronger. There are two months left of 2020. How are we preparing for the transition ahead? What habits are we currently building that can make 2021 successful? These are the questions whispered to me amongst the breeze of the scarlet leaves. The calling of diligence to the “in-between” as summer has left us, and the comforting winds of autumn brush over a new sky. 

Perhaps then, when faithfulness becomes us in the present, we can be ready to welcome transition. 

As I prepare my home for the usual fall decor and get ready to welcome some of my favorite traditions, I seek to live out these months in preparation by remaining diligent to what has been so gracefully given. A season of thanks and discipline is here. 

After all, the seeds we plant in the Fall and Winter will surely blossom in the Spring.