“October is the fallen leaf, but it is also a wider horizon more clearly seen. It is the distant hills once more in sight, and the enduring constellations above them once again.” Hal Borland
I live in a mole hole. Well, technically it’s not a mole hole; it’s more like a dell sans the farmer, rat, and cheese. But it feels like a mole hole. Several other apartment buildings suffocate me in my ground level apartment, as do a host of midi-rise bank buildings and a main thoroughfare that doubles as a NASCAR speedway on Saturday nights. Groves of trees, which are stunning this time of year, add their own padding to my limited view and block out whole sections of the sky.
“The heavens are telling of the glory of God; and their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.” Psalm 19:1
They are? If that’s the case, I’m missing it. Every morning the sun rises in the east I’m told, with brilliant colors heralding its arrival. I’d never know unless I stood on a chair and looked out the one puny window we have that shows the grandest eastern view – a postage stamp size block of the horizon just above the traffic light at the corner. Desperate to catch some of heaven’s majesty, I pace on the little patio attached to our apartment in the afternoons hoping to see a few rays of the sunset at dusk, or the moon and stars at night. Forget it. I’m trapped in a mole hole.
So I run. Not literally. I’m too intimidated by running, but at least once a week I get in my car and chase the sunset up the ridge of Mountain Park, down the back side of Bull Mountain, or along the 99 corridor to Newberg for a God-sized vista of His daily splendor. Getting above the valley floor I finally find what I long for – the horizon.
There’s something life-giving about seeing the horizon line. It’s one of the reasons I love the Oregon Coast so much. There’s hope in the horizon. The promise of a new day, the limitless dreams for this day, and the comfort in God’s rhythm from sunrise to sunset holds me hostage to hope.
“Return to your stronghold, O prisoners of hope; today I declare that I will restore to you double.” Zechariah 9:12
I don’t know what’s waiting for you in this day, but maybe you need hope. Hope can be fragile when you’re listening to a diagnosis, fighting an addiction, looking at a pink slip, or praying for your prodigal child. Even the season of fall can make you feel hopeless – like dreams are dying and the winter is coming to rob you of any life left.
Not so! Yes, the seasons are changing, but fall is when the “wider horizon is more clearly seen and the distant hills come back into view.” Let God restore His hope to your heart today if you are discouraged. Let Him speak into the places of pain that have no words, and let Him fill you with His peace. In this season of challenge, let God bring clarity to those distant hills of your life. Let Him show you His plan for those dreams.
I know it can be hard to face it all…so don’t. Not all at once anyway. If you need encouragement today, just get out of your mole hole and go for a drive or for a walk. Let God speak to you.
Here’s your keys.
Let me know how it goes…
©Copyright, 2011 by Donna Tallman.