The leaves blaze bright against the dull grey clouds. Splashes of red and vibrant yellow resist the coming monotony of winter. The air is crisp and cold; the leaves are the last remnants of an indian summer nearly gone. The raindrops softly hit the windowpane, quiet reminders of the impending storm. Inside the house is quiet; George Winston plays on and I’ve a steaming mug of tea to warm my cold hands.
I snuggle up on the couch to solidify UC applications. How does one sum up one’s life in a couple pages? How do you recount your experiences in 160 words? This is difficult and I feel very inadequate and unprepared.
George Winston makes me nostalgic and melancholy today. I want to sit and watch the rain fall on the colorful leaves. I want to close my eyes and remember times long past. Hugs and whispers from a time to which I can’t return.
Seasons come and go. Memories intensify and fade. Our journey changes and grows. Nothing is permanent; life is not static.
I look out at the beautiful red and yellow leaves; bold against the stormy sky. His grace is sufficient for me, for His power is made perfect in my weakness. How can I be dismayed?
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