Lately, I’ve been thinking about friendships and family the way I think about the fall season. I never expected the colors to change. Everything was beautiful—steady, familiar, full of life—and I thought it would always stay that way. But somewhere along the way, the season shifted. People started slipping away—some by choice, some by circumstance—and I found myself standing in the quiet, wondering what happened.
Did I say something? Was it within my control?
How did we go from constant conversations to distant silence? Or just distant like miles and miles away?
We were “family”… we were supposed to forever be close.
When I look at the trees, I realize they don’t fight the process. In the fall, the green fades because chlorophyll—the pigment that once gave the leaves their color—begins to break down. What’s left behind are the true colors that were always there: golds, reds, and deep oranges finally revealed. Then, when the tree has taken what it needs, the leaves are released—not because they are no longer beautiful, but because the season requires it. The tree lets go so it can rest, renew, and prepare to bloom again.
Maybe that’s what this season of our lives is too—a time of release. Of allowing relationships to change without bitterness, of trusting that even what falls away still served its purpose. Like the trees, we can learn that letting go isn’t the end—it’s a necessary part of growth.
With all the mental notes and images this season brings, there’s often something cozy that comes to mind—a mug, a throw blanket, a favorite sweater, or even a person we find comfort in. Something or someone that helps us slow down and simply be. As difficult as it may be to watch things fall away, take a moment to notice the color that can still emerge through the pain of change.
Challenge:
Find one thing—or one person—that brings you warmth and peace this season.
Hold onto it a little longer. Sit with it. Savor it.
Let it remind you that even in loss and change, there is still beauty, comfort, and life.
You never know how things will grow in the future.
Maybe this season isn’t about what we’ve lost, but about what’s being made new.
And if it’s change for us, then perhaps it’s change for them too—each of us growing, shedding, becoming who we’re meant to be.
Here’s to trusting the fall, even when it feels like everything is falling apart.
Reflection:
Have you felt a shift in your friendships or family lately?
Do you ever find yourself asking, “What happened? We were supposed to be forever”?
What might God be teaching us through these changes—about release, renewal, and trust?
And what cozy thing—or person—will you hold on to this week as you find peace in the beauty of change?
— Gesai
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