Parting gifts

Ah, the humidity is slowly crawling away from us, the temperatures are dipping below unbearable, and the moon is full and shining like a waxed car.

Must be fall, huh?

Fall is one of my four favorite seasons. No, really, it is. I love fall for at least two reasons, one of which is football and the other of which is the World Series. Other reasons I might favor fall is the colors that God gives us, though he's a bit light on color in Louisiana, and the temps that seem to moderate very quickly before winter comes.

I have a sense of peace when this occurs, a sense that what I'm doing has greater meaning, a sense that I can sit outside and ponder deeply the gentle breezes that come.

I have a sense that we're all going to make it, that we're all going to have our gentleness, that even those who disagree with us might find common ground when the heat isn't severe and the humidity isn't cuttable with unsharp knives.

Really, I do.

Of course, the Bible talks about peace. It doesn't mention peace as an absence of conflict, but rather peace is a gentle breath of God.

Listen to John's Gospel from Eugene Patterson's The Message paraphrase: "Don't let this throw you. You trust God, don't you? Trust me. There is plenty of room for you in my Father's home. If that weren't so, would I have told you that I'm on my way to get a room ready for you? And if I'm on my way to get your room ready, I'll come back and get you so you can live where I live. And you already know the road I'm taking. ... I'm telling you these things while I'm still living with you. The Friend, the Holy Spirit whom the Father will send at my request, will make everything plain to you. He will remind you of all the things I have told you. I'm leaving you well and whole. That's my parting gift to you. Peace. I don't leave you the way you're used to being left—feeling abandoned, bereft. So don't be upset. Don't be distraught."

His parting gift to us is peace.

Now, he doesn't mention the weather. He doesn't mention sitting in rocking chairs. He doesn't mention pondering at all. But he mentions being well and whole, and to me, that means sitting in rocking chairs pondering John's Gospel.

This morning, as the sun rises amidst a clear sky, and the temperatures respond to the calling of Fall, let us remember our Lord. Let us talk to him. Let us cherish our time with him. Let us remember his parting gift.