The Autumn of Life

From the year of my birth came the creation of a popular song by Johnny Mercer.  It was taken from a French melody, “Les Feuilles Mortes,” or “the Dead Leaves.”  Mercer turned it into the hit song, best known from Nat King Cole’s recording, “The Autumn Leaves.”  A mere bit of historical music trivia?  I think not.

If one were to survey people and ask, “Which season is your favorite,”  fans of each of the four would be discovered: Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall.  And it’s hard to find argument against anyone’s rationale for their choice.  However, the consideration of Fall always lends itself to discussing this natural phenomenon: the changing of the leaves.  Of course, this refers to deciduous trees losing their foliage.  Conifers do not suffer this fate, at least, not as noticeably.  As cooler temperatures arrive and a decrease in sunlight takes place, the tree begins to protect itself.  As a result, the lack of Chlorophyll gives way to other chemicals in the leaves, exhibited by new colors.  And though green is refreshing, the yellows, oranges, reds and golds are captivating and mesmerizing.  They’re beautiful!  People travel thousands of miles to photograph or simply enjoy the brilliant display broadcasted throughout nature.  Eventually the leaves will turn brown and fall to the ground.  Consequently, the blessing of Summer and the beauty of early Autumn brings the curse of a late Fall: those stinkin’ leaves.

As the palette of nature holds the breath-taking beauty of this season, the parallels that might be drawn between that display and a portrait of human life capture my imagination.  Our lives might well be viewed symbolically, yet very meaningfully through the lens of seasons.  

Spring: that youthful period beginning with the seed that produces a young shoot, soon to bud and blossom.  The excitement of new life and the thrill of growth and blooming into the fullness promised in the seed is enjoyed by all.  

Summer: filled with activity, energy, carefree laughter and deliberate dedication displays the thrill of just being alive.  Realizing potential, the fulfillment of dreams, expressing personality, exhibiting the full scope of one’s very being through relationships, character qualities and determination—all expressions of the warmth of summer.  

Autumn: the days become shorter and indubitably slower.  An awareness of the future and the coming of Winter seems evident and undeniable.  The memories of just days ago are mentally relived, while the realization of the new season increasingly captivates and at times frustrates.

Winter: what once was is now confined to scrapbooks and reminiscing.  It’s cold, and though moments of joy are shared in family gatherings and warm conversations, life has changed, never to be quite the same.  However, the promise remains: life can be good.  And the anticipation and hope of another Spring never dies.

As a person in the Autumn of life, I confess my awareness of the encroaching Winter, yet possess a desire to live out my existence to the fullest.  Could that mean that the opportunity to still make a difference, to still lend influence, remains though it must be intentionally realized?  The thought of simply yielding “dead leaves” is not very inviting.  What if the season only provided a different expression of the same life: not dead yet, just changing in color?  What might the reds, yellows, oranges and golds of our lives be?  The possibilities—though numerous—surely include expressions of the continuation of our commitments, the unequalled value found in our relationships, the steadfast focus on our priorities and the unquestionable evidence of our devotion.  Might not the Fruit of the Spirit become obviously evident in the display of our “leaves”?

Every church, every community, needs help—people who have lived their lives, have learned a thing or two, and are willing to reinvest themselves for the sake of others.  The ground is full of dead leaves.  What we need are some expressions of the beauty, grace, goodness and faithfulness of our God.  The dilemmas faced, the lessons learned, the convictions solidified and the perspective gained are treasures to be passed on to others, no matter the station, position or platform afforded. This is not a season to merely reminisce; it’s time to re-engage by allowing the rich hues of our lives—gained through time and experience—to enhance to the lives of others.

There are surely enough curmudgeons, discontents and negative reminiscers to fill the bill.  Is that what the Autumn of life should represent?  I think not.  Consider the possibility of life not yet over, but simply different, though marked significantly by change.  No, it won’t be exactly what it once was; and yet, it might even be better.  So, don’t become satisfied with “dead leaves.” Let your colors show.  Who knows?  You might find your influence has not been lost at all, it’s only changed in nature.