Release Date: September 23rd, 2026Spiritual Lessons of Autumn
- by Kara Carter
Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” Isaiah 43:18–19
Autumn teaches us something we would rather avoid: everything changes.
Autumn reminds us that not everything is meant to remain, and that change is part of God’s good creation.
The green leaves that seemed permanent turn gold, orange, and red. Then, almost quietly, they loosen their grip and fall. The trees do not cling to what has been. They release what they have carried through the summer and enter a season of vulnerability, waiting, and hidden work.
Spiritual writer Joyce Rupp invites us to see autumn as a spiritual teacher. The fallen leaf has not become useless. What falls to the earth becomes nourishment for what will grow again. Autumn reminds us that not everything is meant to remain, and that change is part of God’s good creation.
Sometimes faithfulness means holding firmly. At other times, it means opening our hands.
We often resist change. We cling to what is familiar, comfortable, and known. We can do the same in our churches and communities, sometimes imagining that faithfulness means holding tightly to the way things have always been.
But as Anabaptist people, we understand the church not simply as an institution to preserve, but as a people called to follow Jesus together. Following Jesus requires movement, discernment, courage, and openness to the Spirit. Sometimes faithfulness means holding firmly. At other times, it means opening our hands.
What might God be asking us to release?
Perhaps an old expectation of what church must look like. A practice that once gave life but no longer does. A cherished way of doing ministry, worship, or leadership. Perhaps resentment, fear, or our need to control an outcome.
Yet autumn reminds us that God may be working through what we cannot yet see.
Letting go does not mean abandoning faithfulness. It can be an act of faith.
The tree does not stop being a tree when its leaves fall. Beneath the surface, unseen roots remain at work. In the same way, congregations may experience seasons when visible growth diminishes, ministries change, or familiar patterns disappear. These changes can bring genuine grief. Yet autumn reminds us that God may be working through what we cannot yet see.
The fallen leaves eventually become nourishment for new growth. So too, experiences of change, grief, and surrender can become places from which new compassion, courage, and mission emerge.
Let us grieve what needs grieving, give thanks for what has been, and open our hands to what God is doing next.
Perhaps our spiritual practice this autumn is simple: release, discern, receive, and trust.
Release what no longer gives life.
Discern what remains essential to following Jesus.
Receive the gifts emerging in a new season.
Trust that God is present, even when the future is hidden.
So let us not rush past the falling leaves. Let us notice them. Let us grieve what needs grieving, give thanks for what has been, and open our hands to what God is doing next.
The God who has been faithful in every season is still at work, making all things new.
Prayer
God of every season, teach us the freedom of open hands. Give us courage to release what no longer gives life, wisdom to recognize what must be carried forward, and patience to trust your hidden work. Keep us faithful in the way of Jesus through every season of change. May our communities of faith be places where gratitude takes root, hope grows, and your Spirit makes all things new. Amen.
- Kara Carter is pastor at Elmira Mennonite Church