The Beauty of Being Used Up

Long ago you founded the earth
and the heavens are the work of your hands.
They will perish but you will remain.
They will all wear out like a garment.
You will change them like clothes that are changed.
But you neither change, nor have an end.

A beautiful depiction of the constant-renewal of the world and all Creation in it, including you and me. I prayed the psalms and considered the slow lifting of the darkness on this overcast autumn day, the first-turning leaves, from green-to-gold. Summertime has reached its absolute fullness, and -being wholly and fully summer, and incapable of being more of what it is- it leaves us now, and the slow but inexorable winter begins the process of reaching its culmination, of becoming wholly and fully winter, until it can be no more of winter, and so forth.

God arrays himself in the splendor of all of it, wears it out like garments needing changing.

And that is us, as well. If we are to be Christ to each other, to become the presence of God that is Love, Mercy and Justice, to each other, then our whole life is, like winter and summer, the quest to become wholly and fully ourselves, who we were created to be, in Christ, until we cannot be more of what we are.

Does this mean more when I read it because we have had day after day of gray autumnal weather here? Maybe. I love autumn. Does it mean more because my father has taken a turn for the worse and so I naturally turn my thoughts to last things? Maybe. I love my father. Is it because God is asking me to stretch for Him again and take on a new thing? Maybe. It is like all those things He has asked of me, enticing but means putting myself out there more than is strictly comfortable.

All I know is that The Anchoress's thoughts right now are just what I needed to read.

There is more and I think I will be printing it out to ponder and reread slowly, in my own time.