The wind is howling. Who am I kidding, of course the wind is howling, it’s BG. The leaves that fly off the trees in the tornado-like weather have got me thinking; I’m kinda like a leaf.
Each leaf on a tree is unique, not one of them is like the other. However, collectively, they all look the same. As I look at a tree in the summer I think “oh look there’s a green tree.” Okay maybe that isn’t the first thought that runs through my brain but hopefully you see my point. For much of the spring and summer, the leaves get to hang out with their fellow leaves but once fall comes, they begin to change color. Some become orange, some red, and others yellow. Some change quickly while others take a little more time. And while each leaf was unique before autumn approached, now each one is noticeably and vibrantly different from the next. Soon, whether the leaf is ready or not, its roots become weak and brittle and the wind carries them away from the tree, causing them to get stepped on, raked into a trash bag, or admired by a passerby and maybe even featured in a photographer’s latest piece. Who knows.
So, how am I like a leaf? Well, I’m not and this metaphor is most likely a stretch, but bear with me alright? So I’ve grown up with a group of about 270 kids. While each member of this group is different, one might look at us collectively and say, “That’s the graduating class of 2015.” However, eventually, we all begin to find ourselves. Some figure it out right away while others are left guessing what the meaning of life might be. (Shoutout to that group). For most of our teenage years we go through school simply finishing homework, studying for tests, and living for the weekend, but not really putting much time, thought, or effort into figuring out who we are as people. That is, until we have the oh-crap-real-life-is-coming-soon-and-I-gotta-get-my-act-together moment. Soon, it’s time to cut ties with this group of people we’ve known for so long. Our “old roots” become weak as we start to create “new roots” in a new place. And whether we are ready for it or not, the winds come and we are blown away from the tree. We are left to decide what we will do with our future.
Unlike leaves, we have the power to decide what our future looks like. Will we let ourselves get trampled and stepped on by the weight of this world? Or will we dodge the blows from people with evil intentions of destroying our beauty? Will we let other people decide for us what is true and get swept away by a rake? Or will we dare to stand alone in what we believe in? Will we let what once defined us as unique die and fade to brown? Or will we boast in what makes us different and find success in that?
Leaving home and entering the real world begs these questions from us, and we must have a firm knowledge of what is true and what is right in order for our future to be a beautiful picture. Perhaps one that is pleasing to its Artist.