I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong (Ephesians 3:16-17 NLT).

Within a week's time, our world snapped into fall. The garden is taking one last breath as it bursts with dahlias in corals and reds. Subconsciously, I reach for my orange sweater before I slip out to cut a bouquet. Without trying, I'm mirroring nature's colors too.

I love fall — with its steaming cups of coffee and tea by the fire, the coziness of couch cuddling, and book reading. I love the candles flickering and soup and crusty sourdough bread always there to warm our bellies.

But I don't anticipate the cold winter that trails close on the heels of fall. I don't want to forget, but really enjoy this season.

For what it is.

For the wild and lavish colors in the trees.

For the staggering sunsets.

Seasons bring growth... just like they bring change.

This next winter will lay open a clear choice for me: Will I choose to cultivate a heart and home of peace while it's cold and long with Daniel gone?

There are seasons that bear rich and abundant visible fruit — garden baskets overflowing with tomatoes, okra, and zinnias.

Then there are other seasons that seem fruitless, frozen, even dead. But far below the cold soil...

God is inviting us to grow,

to let Him cultivate deep and unseen yet intimate connection through those "barren" days.

Don't be afraid if you are in a quiet season — a misunderstood or overlooked one. Don't be afraid if you are called off the normal path, even the "right" one.

Don't be afraid of the quiet.

Of discomfort.

Take a deep breath.

Be present for it.

For all of it.

Let God peel back the crusty layers of your heart so He can pour His holiness deep into your veins.

Gather colors and fill your home with visible reminders of His love and provision.
The calling away feels salty.

Expensive.

Like a waste.

Maybe you water your broken chapter with tears, mixing it with oil too expensive to keep to yourself. Maybe it all feels so wrong,

yet you know it is right.

This season is for your good.

What is watered in tears and purified by His fire will burst from your "fall" seasons into rich, brilliant life.

Roots which hold strong...

resilient enough for the next storm.

He knows how to prepare you.

Come pick dahlias in the golden evening light with me. Gather colors and fill your home with visible reminders of His love and provision.