When It’s Time to Let Go
October is my favorite color.
The rich reds and bright yellows where I live highlight the glowing oranges and the greens fading into deep purples and earthy browns.
It’s interesting to think about how these incredibly vibrant colors are the result of leaves dying.
The trees that drop their leaves form a special layer of cells that slowly severs a leaf’s tissues from the tree. Essential fluids, such as chlorophyll, cannot flow in and out of the leaf, and so it changes color. The leaf eventually falls, and a tiny scar is all that remains. The falling of the leaves does more than mark the change of seasons. It also helps trees prepare to survive the cold, dry air of winter.
The beautiful leaves on the ground begin to decompose, releasing important nutrients back into the soil to be recycled, perhaps by other trees that will be full of rich and vibrant colors next autumn.
Beauty is found in a leaf’s death, just as beauty is found in many of the deaths that occur in our lives. I’m not suggesting losing someone we love is a thing of beauty, although the promise of eternal life through Christ is. But the death of sin, the death of grief, the death of a toxic lifestyle—these kinds of deaths bring us life here on earth.
God allows what doesn’t bring us life to die, if we are willing to release it. He gives and takes away. He takes away our sin and gives us his righteousness. He takes away our heart sickness and gives us his divine health. He takes away our spiritual poverty and blesses us with prosperity. His restoration is always greater in quantity and quality than what we perceive as lack.
When he allows these kinds of deaths, as with the falling of leaves, sometimes a scar remains. What the Lord removes prepares us for seasons ahead, allowing us to survive the inevitable winter seasons we’ll face and to continue growing.
If the leaves remained on the trees in the winter, they would get caught with water in their veins, freeze, and die anyway. The trees would not enter a state of rest. There would be no food for them come spring when the weather warms, and they would starve. They would die.
Just like the trees, if we hold on when the season calls for letting go, we cause our spirits to suffer instead of resting and preparing for the season ahead. We have nothing to fear in letting go of what doesn’t bring us life. This is true whether we are letting go of a lifestyle, a career, or even a relationship.
You are called to stand tall like a vibrant yellow poplar, shine with brilliance like the bright red maple, and let go like the prismatic orange leaves of a giant oak. Your roots run deep into the ground and need their seasons of rest.
As the landscape of your life changes like the seasons, do not fear loss. Do not fear the scars you’ll bear; they serve a purpose. Let go, and allow that which is not of God to fall to the ground. Come spring, you will be rested and strong, ready for new growth.
Brianna George is a speaker, teacher, and missionary as well as a part-time writer and full-time encourager. She lives in central Tennessee with her husband of twelve years, two spicy little boys, and Bosa the boxer. More of her writing can be found at unveiledandrevealed.com.
Photograph © Bethany Beams, used with permission
Well written! Great Read! Just what I needed at 5 in the morning! It is so true and the tree illustration explains your point beautifully. I’m ready for fall leaves and coffee now!
Thanks so much Tasha! Enjoy your coffee and those falling leaves! They are coming! What beautiful scars they have. 🙂
This reminded me of the passage where Jesus assured us God takes care of the sparrows and lilies of the field. Oh, to trust Him more with my own cares.
I love the parallel of the natural process of the fall leaf letting go with the letting go process we have in our time here. The leaf has to let go or otherwise it freezes and is more damaged. I’ll be thinking on that concept for days! So true!