The garden is dying. The tomoto vines droop low, the carrot beds emptied by little hands, and the peas pulled up weeks ago. I trudge through my flower beds now, wielding pruning shears, for what once was summer gold has been blackened by autumn rains.
As I ruthlessly cut and toss, the heap of tattered, dying foliage grows. The earth newly exposed again, I find a snaking morning glory vine, usurping from below. This, too, must go, or it will take over everything I have nurtured in this small plot. It is transformation for my garden that I hope for, believing that by removing the dead and parasitical, the coming spring will bring new growth; bright green promising summer color.
I am thinking a lot about transformation these days, and I am working on writing this verse on my heart:
"You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness." Ephesians 4:22-24
In transformation, there is a putting off that happens, as well as a putting on. I don't know exactly what that looks like, this new "attitude" of my mind or even "true righteousness and holiness." But, I do know the Creator. And, as a gardener, I see pictures of His truth everywhere. This uprooting of the old and wasted is absolutely necessary for new life, and as I hunger for transformation, I know too that He is faithful. I thank Him for October...the joy of seeing both beauty and hope in the dying.