Autumn Meditation

As the season has changed to fall, weโ€™ve experienced shorter days, some cooler temperatures, and a good drenching of rain. As it poured, I peered through the storm door several times to search for hints of color or any visuals that autumn had arrived, but there were none. After the rainy days, we ventured out for some birding at Latta Plantation Nature Preserve. The only leaves showing fall color were a couple of red-tinged dogwood trees. But there were other signs of fall I savored, especially the aroma. Likely from all the grasses and wildflowers, it smelled like fall! It also sounded like fall. The insects were buzzing rhythmically, and the birds were conversant and darting about in small flocks. The lighting was lazy and the atmosphere seemed different. We walked the Hill Trail and lingered in different spots, listening.

For me, fall usually starts out as a rude interruption. With sadness I remember the summer warmth and all the outdoor fun, our backyard gatherings, my garden, the flowers, our beach trips, and the long hours of sunlight. I peer into the distance, see the harshness of winter is coming, and consider the passing of time and my own preparedness for what may come. On this day I wanted to move past the bump and embrace the season! In this beautiful setting I began to relax, and that fall feeling I had been looking for came, peacefully descending on me in a spirit of trust.  

There on the hill, listening for the call of birds and hearing the rustle of the tall grasses, I thought of Elizabeth Barrett Browningโ€™s poem, “The Autumn.” It begins this way:

Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them โ€”
The summer flowers depart โ€”
Sit still โ€” as all transformโ€™d to stone,
Except your musing heart.

Wow โ€” I do like this opening stanza! I like her imperative to โ€œGo.โ€ Browning instructs us to take our lesson on a hill, where we just sit. We are to look around, taking it in, being still. I appreciate too the way she conveys what she hears. The woods and the waters โ€œhymn an autumn sound.โ€ She invites us to hear them singing a song of praise. Then she addresses our heart, our musing heart. Muse means to reflect deeply on a subject, so sheโ€™s acknowledging our need to meditate. The poem continues:

How there you sat in summer-time,
May yet be in your mind;
And how you heard the green woods sing
Beneath the freshening wind.
Though the same wind now blows around,
You would its blast recall;
For every breath that stirs the trees,
Doth cause a leaf to fall.

Yes! Browning takes us back to the place weโ€™ve been during the summer and says to tarry there again. She acknowledges we often remember and compare our experience now with what we had before. Reading through the remaining stanzas, Browning compares the changes in the wind and woods as symbolic of the transitions in our lives, and gives us a way to move on. (I hope youโ€™ll hang on for the end.)

Oh! Like that wind, is all the mirth
That flesh and dust impart:
We cannot bear its visitings,
When change is on the heart.
Gay words and jests may make us smile,
When Sorrow is asleep;
But other things must make us smile,
When Sorrow bids us weep!

The dearest hands that clasp our hands, โ€”
Their presence may be oโ€™er;
The dearest voice that meets our ear,
That tone may come no more!
Youth fades; and then, the joys of youth,
Which once refreshโ€™d our mind,
Shall come โ€” as, on those sighing woods,
The chilling autumn wind.

Hear not the wind โ€” view not the woods;
Look out oโ€™er vale and hill โ€”
In spring, the sky encircled them โ€”
The sky is round them still.
Come autumnโ€™s scathe โ€” come winterโ€™s cold โ€”
Come change โ€” and human fate!
Whatever prospect Heaven doth bound,
Can neโ€™er be desolate.

Here in the last stanza Browning tells us once weโ€™ve acknowledged those things that grieve us in lifeโ€™s transitions, we can now change our focus. She tells us to โ€œlook out.โ€ Weโ€™re exhorted to redirect our focus over the valleys and hills to the sky that encircles. The skyโ€™s still there just as it was before! The scathe of the season, the harshness we see and feel, that sense of being out of control โ€” Heaven is still over all!

Oh reader, God is still with us! In these seemingly desolate times as we grieve so many changes and long for what was, let us lift our eyes to Heavenโ€™s throne. For โ€œThe Lord has established His throne in the Heavens, and His kingdom rules over all (Psalm 103:19).โ€ There is nothing He does not rule over! There is no time He does not rule over (Psalm 31:15).  Nations and kings are in His hands (Psalm 47:8-9). He is almighty (Deuteronomy 10:17), and nothing is difficult for Him (Jeremiah 32:27). The Lord is able to deliver (2 Kings 17:39) and preserves all who love Him (John 10:29). He is able to do exceedingly abundantly more than we ask or think (Ephesians 3:20).

โ€œOh Lord, we lift our eyes to the hills, but our help comes from You, maker of Heaven and earth. You will not allow our foot to slip, for You are our keeper; You preserve our going out and coming in โ€“ even our souls! Close the door of our minds to questions about Your sovereignty or Your good and kind intentions. For You are righteous in all Your ways and gracious in all Your works. You are trustworthy, performing all that You have promised. Keep us O Lord, I pray.โ€*

If you are on this journey of faith with the One true God, go, sit again where youโ€™ve been with Him before. Meditate on His promises and seek Him. Fan the flame of your hope (Psalm 62:5). He does restore our souls (Psalm 23:3)! With each reminder of who He is, be thrilled all over again. Be encouraged that he has enabled you to persevere. Delight in who He wants to be for you in this season. Tell about Him and all His wonders (Psalm 9:1-2)!


  • This prayer includes verses from Psalm 121 and 145. Other Psalms I’ve found very helpful in times of transition are Psalm 103 and 116. In each of these the Psalmist is speaking to his own soul. He defeats discouragement and unbelief by remembering the truth about God’s nature and His kind intentions.
  • I’ve published a new page called Interesting Finds! It contains a collection of recent discoveries that caught my eye and brought fresh joy in God’s creativity. Enjoy browsing! The page can be found on the menu dropdown, so as you come back to the site, take a look for new finds.

His Answer Was a Garden

Around 25 years ago, I saw a counselor on staff at our church for a while. I think back on it as a sweet season. Judyโ€™s joy in the Lord and her love for Him were manifested in the way that Scripture was woven into the living and breathing of her daily life. She was eager to be fed and nourished by it, and I was attracted to this devotion and wanted to emulate her! I still recall particular verses we discussed that helped me learn not to look elsewhere for help, but to go to the Lord first, trust Him, and watch Him work (Isaiah 50:10-11, 31:1).  

What I remember most from our visits, though, was a kind action on her part that spoke to my heart and impacted all our visits thereafter. I was usually her first appointment of the day and we met in a large, chilly room with cinder block walls. One morning as I came in and sat down (infant in tow) I noticed immediately that the space felt comfortable, maybe even toasty!  I realized she had placed a space heater near my chair.

Judy had noticed how cold-natured I am, had procured a heater, and had come in early to warm up my space. I felt deeply touched by this simple act. This may be because, well โ€ฆ if youโ€™re cold natured like me, youโ€™ve probably discovered people enjoy poking fun at you about it. She had taken what others might find as opportunity for jest and used it instead as an occasion to render compassionate service.  

My heart interpreted it to mean she knew me well, she knew what would make a difference in my time with her, and she cared enough to act on it. I liked being known! I liked that she prepared a place for me! I felt loved and affirmed. It was a tender act, evoking a tender response. Her kindness also favorably impacted my counseling sessions because it issued in a deeper level of trust that opened the door for me to be more transparent.

My heart experienced this same tender response a few weeks ago; it was when I happened across Genesis 2:8.

And the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and there he put the man whom He had formed.

Genesis 2:8

I thought, โ€œOh Lord, you knew us, your handiwork, before you formed us. In Your lovingkindness you prepared a special place for us, curated to meet all our needs; You planted it yourself!โ€

I like that Scripture reveals โ€œthe Lord Godโ€ planted it. Knowing whatโ€™s involved with planting a garden, I tried to imagine what that process would look likeโ€”the timing, specifics, and His intent in the design. What sort of environment would man need to thrive? In what kind of dwelling place could they learn all He had for them? In what setting would they come to know the Lord as they lingered with Him and experienced His goodness? Where would they best gain knowledge of His plan for them and understand their roles and responsibilities?

Godโ€™s answer was a garden. The Lord prepared a habitation with all they needed; the perfect dwelling place, ordained to manifest His love. It was very good. (Genesis 1:31)

The garden was in a particular geographical location: Eden, in the east. A river flowed out of Eden to water it (Genesis 2:8, 10). God provided both beauty and nourishment in His garden. He made every tree grow that is pleasant to the sight and good for food (Genesis 2:9).

The garden provided work for man; he was to tend and keep it (Genesis 2:15).

It was a place for man to learn to reason and discern. The Lord brought the animals and birds to Adam to see what he would call them. Whatever Adam called each living creature, that became its name (Gen. 2:19).

It was the environment where the first couple experienced Godโ€™s presence. He was there with them. He instructed them and gave them purpose (Genesis 1:28, 2:17).

“Iโ€™m grateful for Your word, Lord, that reveals to us who You are and how You made ready for us. Thank You that this whole realm of nature still speaks of You. No wonder we are drawn to the therapeutic benefits of a hike or a stroll through a garden! They are still physical and tangible places where we can see and smell, hear, touch, and taste of Your glory. And in gardens, we can still commune with You, receive guidance from You, and experience Your presence. I wonder at natureโ€™s indescribable beauty, remarkable details, and consider who You areโ€”a God who knows us and loves us, and who has perfectly prepared and provided for us.” 

Hello world!

Two of our children sometimes volley openly for status of โ€œfavorite child.โ€ Of course we deny any suggestions that such a position is obtainable, but that hasnโ€™t yet deterred anyoneโ€™s fun in claiming it. Yet at our house this spring, weโ€™ve developed a certain affinity toward one of our backyard birds. The Carolina Wren has definitely become the favorite! They have been our close companions during these stay at home times. Watching them is so entertaining! Theyโ€™re loaded with personality, and their song โ€ฆ well, itโ€™s so cheering.

The wrens built a nest in one of our hanging plants, a pink geranium just off the patio.  I suspected the nest was there, and discovered it one day when I took it down for watering. It was a burrowed-out cavity down in the dirt and had lots of eggs. Iโ€™d say at least six. They were small and had little brown speckles. I hung the plant back up, leaving it alone now except for light watering, and we watched and waited for the eggs to hatch. We knew when it happened by the non-stop trips back and forth bringing insects to the nest. After a while we could hear sounds coming from the nest as well. Sometimes it was the female responding to the male supplying food, and sometimes it was the baby birds.

 One morning I went out and, to my amazement, there was a fledgling sitting out in plain sight on one of the branches of the geranium. It was staring right at me. I was stunned. Something was wrong here! This little bird was ugly! I mean really ugly! I was expecting something tiny with a lot of down, a short tail, maybe some disproportion, but cute, or at least cute-ish. But what I sawโ€ฆ well, for one this bird was baldheaded with a totally naked head. Second, it was as big as the parent wrens but broader. Its beak looked prehistoric. Not only that, there was some attitude. It had a pompous expression as if to say, โ€œI came out of this nest all by myself. Iโ€™m really grand. I do believe I rule the roost. Bring me some food!โ€ After a bit we realized a second fledgling had emerged from the nest and was down in the foliage jumping around practicing its moves. The first one stayed put on that same branch and moved only when a parent wren appeared with food, doing all it could to nab a tasty morsel before it was fed to someone down in the recesses of the plant.

We were mesmerized. It was like when you see something really tragic or shockingly offensive, and you canโ€™t tear your eyes away. Then the truth began to sink in โ€” this was not a baby wren! It was a cowbird fledgling! A pair of brown-headed cowbirds had been at our feeder off and on and I remembered that they lay their eggs in other birdsโ€™ nests. Now I felt worse. Here was this huge fledgling who looked larger than its parents, perched there looking so self-important; all the while it was totally dependent on the work of the smaller, very industrious wrens. I have read about this and I know it occurs, but I didnโ€™t like that it occurred right here with my favorite bird. And by day two, we were wondering: where are the other fledglings, the baby wrens? Why arenโ€™t we seeing them? Have these two cowbirds prevented their feeding? I was troubled and offended by this backyard drama, trying to make sense of the seeming injustice of it.

And just like a fluttering of wings, another truth glided in and settled over me, as these familiar words spoke a gentle reminder to my heart:

Nothing in my hands I bring,

Simply to the cross I cling;

Naked come to Thee for dress,

Helpless look to Thee for grace;

Foul I to the fountain fly,

Wash me, Savior, or I die.

Rock of Ages, by Augustus Toplady

My child, you are like this fledgling – ugly, exposed, weak, helpless, and totally dependent.  Your feathers get ruffled and your mouth can be way too big. You get puffed up, and tend to focus on your own needs instead of those of others Iโ€™ve placed around you. You know how to bring offense.

Donโ€™t be troubled. I love you with an everlasting love. You already know first-hand the love of an adoptive parent. And I have adopted you, knowing you were ugly, naked, and offensive, and brought you permanently into my family. I have rescued you and will forever protect you and provide for you. I will guide you. My grace is sufficient in your weakness; my work has secured your pardon. I will clothe you with my righteousness, a robe of white to cover your nakednessโ€ฆ are you still concerned about drama and injustice?

No, Lord, Iโ€™m not concerned about that anymore.

Thank you, Lord. Thank you for this tender reminder. I think it was a rebuke? But it felt so good. Thank you for supplying the fountain to which I fly. Thank you for your grace and your patience. Thank you for opening my eyes to see you, for adopting me, and providing for every need. Thank you, Holy Spirit, for speaking into my heart today.

The wrens fledged their two cowbirds, and after a week or so settled into their empty nester role. Iโ€™ve been learning their songs, the male being the most vocal, and can pick them out among other calls. They donโ€™t migrate; they mate for life, so hopefully weโ€™ll enjoy them for some years to come. Their sight and song will prompt a heart celebration of the gentle reminder I received. The cowbirds? I no longer feel the disdain I had, but am drawn to them now, as usually happens with those in whom we have much in common. I appreciate that they are bold in their neediness and so seemingly unaware of anything but the good gifts brought to them by adoptive parents.

Mom wren

How about you? Are you anything like me and the fledgling cowbirds? Let us reach out in grace to one another with encouragement to receive the Lordโ€™s sacrifice that brings us life, and as we know Him better and better learn to rest in His steadfast love.


The title of this post, “Hello World!” seemed appropriate for both this fledgling and for me. This is my first post as I launch tarrythere.com, so now I’m a fledgling blogger! To learn more about my blog, about me, or about our Creator, select the About drop down in the sidebar. Thank you for visiting. I’d love to hear from you!

“Adoption is the highest privilege of the gospel. The traitor is forgiven, brought in for supper, and given the family name. To be right with God the Judge is a great thing, but to be loved and cared for by God the Father is greater.”

J. I. Packer (1926-2020)