The Final Hours

As autumn ushers another year nearer its final hours, I marvel at the seasonal similarities to our own life cycle. Perhaps God intended the seasons would speak a timeless truth to us year after year.

Though the calendar year claims a January first birth, the astronomical calendar gives a more accurate representation of the life cycle of a year.

Born in dewy freshness each spring, the year comes alive as though waking from sleep. From the new life of plants, shrubs, and trees, signs of the new birth are seen everywhere as even wildlife swells with the birth of creatures great and small.

Growing and flourishing throughout the spring, life becomes abundant, bursting with vitality all summer long, until autumn begins the slow descent into the splendor of a last spiral to the final hours of the year before it reaches its rest in the tomb of the earth for winter.

But the tomb becomes a womb for new life to return again in the spring.

The seasons remind us of the transitory nature of life. Where our own seasons of growth, suffering, success, and waiting ebb and flow, but never remain static. The seasons also illustrate the graceful art of aging.

I suppose none of us like to dwell much on the process of growing old.

When we are young, we barely give it a thought as it seems a lifetime away. When we arrive at mid-life, we begin to see the edge closer, and with it new fears creep in. And when you pass into the golden years as I have, the reality greets you with every sunrise.

But what if the seasons’ eternal cycle bore testimony to a deeper truth about aging?

Like my gardens in the autumn, when I look in the mirror, I see faded beauty. A beauty withered and altered by weathering life.

My vitality though remarkable for my age, is lessened, the morning stiffness and evening weariness tell of a body late in its life journey. Many activities are best lived through memory and photo albums than in actual participation.

While the process of aging may show up in the loss of physical beauty, the imposition of physical limitations, and even a few regrets, it offers much more than it steals.

Autumn reflects this perspective for me. As the year prepares for its swan song, it steps on stage revealing exquisite splendor. No one viewing the magnificence of this season denies the beauty found in death.

Though the year has aged, it still has so much to offer us, inviting us to view aging through autumn’s lens. Yes, the vibrant beauty and vitality of spring is gone, but in its place is another kind of beauty.

As we age, we become better, like good wine, cheeses, meats, coffee beans, vinegars, maple syrup, and many fermented foods like sauerkraut.

We gain wisdom from life experiences and new perspectives as the passage of time nurtures empathy and compassion. Expanding empathy and compassion for others also teaches us to have the same for ourselves.

Aging in this way, we develop a new relationship with our past, enabling us to move into healing seasons with confidence and forgiveness.

We have more time to pursue interests side-lined during earlier, busy years. Even if we have physical limitations, we still have many more opportunities for growth, development and fun.

Having a greater impact in the lives of others as we invest our hard-earned wisdom through mentoring and serving brings great joy.

But perhaps the best part of aging and moving into our final hours is the transfiguration.

The eternal nature of the cycles of the seasons teaches us all things will be made new. (Revelation 21:5) Though each autumn the earth dies, returning everything to the soil, it is but a deep sleep.

“And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful.”

Revelation 21:5 KJV

As Paul says to the Thessalonians, in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18, believers who have died are asleep. Or as Jesus spoke of Lazarus’s death as sleep in John 11:11, death for the believer is but sleep, from which we will be awakened.

This life is not all there is. We age, fall asleep, return to the dust from whence we were taken; but we will awaken, we will arise to a life which will never end. And in that life, we will possess a beauty which is Christ’s and a body which will never again know limitations.

May your journey through this autumn season be filled with a renewed joy in the aging process and the full anticipation of all things being made new.

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