There is something sacred about autumn. Yesterday I took the dogs to a park. Hard to believe I was standing in the middle of Joburg city, patterns of red, yellow and orange all around. Here and there the first fingerprints of winter were visible.
Nature is shedding like a sheep dog, throwing off the stuff it gathered on her journey through spring and summer.
To throw stuff out is sometimes good. We need to travel light. Same applies to faith. During our walk with God we tend to gather junk. Before we know it we hold on to sentimental Christian kitsch that holds very little worth and meaning in the bigger scheme of things. In the end it drags us down, holds us back and makes our faith look tasteless, out of date and ugly as hell.
I can feel it in my bones, my soul is heading towards winter. To throw out, shake off, to rest, to gather new strength, go back to the roots, to allow my spirit to dig deep, to find an undercurrent of the Big Stream, to drink, to be revived, to wake up and start believing again.