(A disclaimer--I copped this picture from the Internet b/c I wasn't sure I could actually catch leaves mid-fall using my camera.)Every year, about this time, I sit in my recliner and watch the leaves fall to the ground, sometimes one by one, sometimes as a large group. And I always have the following thought: Each leaf will only fall once. For some reason, this surprises me every year. There seem to be so many coming down, but each one only makes one trip. Then I think about rain and snow and compare them, because I never think about the finitude of rain and snow (except when I'm comparing them to leaves). And really, each drop of rain and flake of snow only drops once, too, which then reminds me of how I also can't believe that each snowflake is unique.
I have always been fascinated by finitude, even from a very young age. In third grade, they showed us a filmstrip about how fossil fuels will run out someday. The urge to protect and preserve, for me, extends from fossil fuels, to teeth (I did finally throw away my baby teeth but I take meticulous care of the teeth in my mouth)!, to my hearing (I'm the one with flourescent orange earplugs at church), to clothes (I still wear a few things I bought in eighth grade), to food (I love batch cooking for freezing), to books. Recently I have started reminding myself that there will always be new books, magazines, recipes, etc., so I don't need to make sure I store enough now for the rest of my life!
There's got to be a balance between on the one hand, the grasshopper who scorns storing up for the winter, and on the other hand the rich man who builds bigger barns to store up for himself, only to be struck by God. What a challenge this is when I look around the house and think, "I need more bookcases, or organizers, or shelves for all this stuff..."
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