An Autumn Art Show

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.  Psalm 139:13-14

A few mornings ago my youngest headed out the door, having won the award for being first to be ready for the school day.  A few moments later he popped his head back in the house.  "Mom!" he called with a breathless voice.  "Just wait till you see.  You're going to love this!"

I was ready for a pleasant

surprise when I left the house.  At first I didn't see anything remarkable - just another lovely October day.  He paused to let me look for myself, and then flung his arm toward the ground in a gesture of magnificence.

"Leaves," he grinned.  "They're finally coming down."

He was right.  The autumn beauty that had been brewing in the treetops was starting its annual migration to the ground.  Leaves from our shade tree lay carpeting the yard in an orange and gold shag.

A dry skittering drew my attention toward a few lighthearted leaves strolling across the driveway, enjoying the sunshine.  I watched them, intrigued by the warm marbling on their backs – red and orange and yellow and a touch of green sponge-painted in muted celebration, a modest masterpiece. 

My eyes trailed around the yard, noting the different shapes, sizes, and abundance of color amongst the leaves, each canvas more striking than the last.  Their beauty was astonishing, once I took the time to notice it.  They were truly, spectacularly beautiful.

It had never occurred to me before to be envious of a leaf. 

Wouldn’t you like to be spectacularly beautiful?  What joy it would be, if leaves could feel joy, to reflect up to each passerby a little of the Creator’s glory, to make people stop in their tracks and say, “Wow, what a wonderful creation.”  How glorious to glow with color and light and the knowledge of being a real, unique and splendid work of art.

Here’s something to think about:  you are, truly, a masterpiece.

“I am fearfully and wonderfully made,” the psalmist writes.  God’s works are indeed wonderful – we know that full well.  All creation sings His praise and shows His glory.  Hummingbirds and giraffes and spring flowers and autumn leaves all gleam with the greatness of our God. 

And we, you and me, are His greatest creation – mankind, made in His own image.  We are wonderfully made.  We are spectacular.

We can be pretty bad at seeing our own wonderfulness.  We look down at our imperfect, slightly lumpy bodies and say, “Wonderfully made?  This?”  We see our own mistakes, our failures, our weaknesses and flaws and think, “Wonderful?  Me??”

Yes!  Wonderful, you.  Not wonderful because you’re pretty, or well dressed, or because your house is clean and your kids are well behaved.  You’re not wonderful because you’re nice, or even because you go to church and say your prayers and help wash the dishes after the church potluck.  You’re wonderful because God’s works are wonderful.  He made you, and what He makes is good.

And you’re wonderful because not only were you wonderfully created, but you have also been wonderfully re-created.  Through the blood of His Son, God cleaned away the ugliness of sin that marred His masterpiece.  And now when He looks at you He sees you as the beautiful, wonderful creation He intended you to be.

Because Jesus lived and died and rose again, you – lumpy, imperfect you – are wonderful in the eyes of your creator.  With His love within us and His forgiveness around us, we are freed to be a spectacular leaf, a unique and uniquely gifted masterpiece who reflects the beauty of our maker and gives a glimpse of His love to those around us. 

Before long we'll have to rake our front yard leaves into good-smelling piles and take them to the town yard waste pile for the next stage of their life.  I will revel in the feeling of their cool, damp crispness against my arms and face as I herd them into a bag for the journey.

But for now I will enjoy my daily stroll through our golden carpet, swooshing my feet under the leaves and then up for that deliciously crinkly sound as they surge upward and then settle back down in my wake. And my eyes will trail over the God-painted beauty all around me, realizing once again that there is no most-beautiful leaf.  They are all lovely. 

I am only one among so, so many.  But the One who made me sees me as beautiful.  For today, that is enough.

First published in The Alpena News on October 22, 2016.