I don’t know about you, but I absolutely love the fall. I love the changing colors of the trees, the sound of crisp leaves blowing in the wind, bundling up with a handmade scarf. There’s a lushness and richness of the fall season that is like no other. But what I love the very most about fall is back-to-school time.
It’s been a long time since I’ve actually been in school, but I find that this time of year still signals for me a new beginning, even more strongly than the start of the new year. As a child and teen, it was always so exciting to buy new school supplies. Is there anything more inspiring than brand new, sharpened pencils? Or clean, bright paper, just waiting to be written on? Oh, the words I could write! Oh, the things I would learn! Oh, the possibility!

As an adult, I find myself this time of year eager to plan the year before me. As I look at the blank calendar, just waiting to be filled in with important events and appointments, I am still inspired by such possibility. Things will be different this year. I will exercise more. I will volunteer more. I will accomplish more. I will be more.
Though the promise of a new beginning always beckons to me, it’s become more and more difficult to ignore how the inspiration invariably fades. I watch how fall becomes winter, and the promises I made to be better have been broken. So I try even harder. New Year’s resolutions. Lenten promises. Next month, I say, next month I’ll have a new plan. As spring turns to summer, and summer flies by, I once again look to the fall, my new beginning, my second chance.
I found that there’s a word for a person like me. Neophile: “a person who loves novelty; person who accepts the future enthusiastically and enjoys changes and evolution.” But what does it mean when the changes don’t stick, when the evolution stalls?
Earlier this summer, I attended a nearby church for Taizé. It was a beautiful service, but what I was most struck by was their table in the Sanctuary, carved with the words, “Behold, I make all things new!” I had heard that Scripture before, and found that it comes from Revelation:
And he that sat upon the throne said, “Behold, I make all things new!” – Revelation 21:5
I was surprised to find there’s a similar reference in the Old Testament:
For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland. – Isaiah 43:19
I think I do see it. For this has been the first time that I’ve truly made an effort to place my future, my healing, my growth in God’s hands. I believe I’ve finally learned that new office supplies and new calendars won’t really effect any significant change in my life. I must put God first. He is the one that makes all things new. Trusting that – believing that – will be the only thing that can truly transform my life.
So this fall, my calendar is still filled with events and appointments. I am still looking forward to a new beginning – and new schedule – as my son starts a new school year. And yes, I did buy some fresh notebooks and pens and pencils, and I look forward to using them.
But this time, I have a new, and hopefully wiser, perspective. Instead of insisting on blazing my own trail through work, school and home, I am committed to following God’s pathway through the wilderness that is life. I will seek the rivers in the dry wasteland of appointments, projects and tasks by making time for prayer and meditation. I will stop trying to control my destiny, and instead will allow God to “make all things new” in my life.
How’s that for change and evolution!