09/23/2026
As the summer wanes and the chilled air of that early-fall transition begins to roll in, we find ourselves praying over the last of the garden’s offerings.
Praying for just a little more warmth.
A few more sunny days.
Enough time to ripen those last tomatoes before the plants finally surrender their energy.
The leaves are beginning to show their weariness, yellowing and browning as the season slowly draws to a close. And as I look over the garden, I’m reminded that even this is part of God’s design.
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1
A season to plant.
A season to grow.
A season to harvest.
And a season to let go.
There is something deeply humbling about gardening because it teaches us how little control we actually have. We can plant the seeds. We can tend the soil. We can water, w**d, prune and nurture…
But ultimately, God gives the increase.
And so we pray.
We pray for those last warm days to coax the green tomatoes into ripeness. We pray for enough sun, enough rain, and enough time.
But perhaps, more importantly, we pray for the wisdom to recognize when the season has changed.
Because sometimes God is asking us to keep tending.
And sometimes He is asking us to release.
To trust Him with what is unfinished.
To trust Him with what is fading.
To trust Him with what we cannot control.
The garden reminds me that nothing is wasted in God’s hands.
Even the dying leaves have purpose as compost and nourishment for the Spring.
Even the empty beds have purpose as our blank canvas for next year's crops.
Even the seasons of rest have purpose as respite for the mind and body.
And just because something is no longer blooming doesn’t mean God is no longer working.
There are things happening beneath the soil that we cannot see.
Roots are strengthening.
Seeds are cold germinating.
Life is preparing for another season.
So today, as we watch summer slowly surrender to fall, we are choosing gratitude.
Gratitude for every tomato, every flower, every harvest, every answered prayer—and even for the things that didn’t grow the way we hoped.
Because we are learning, again and again, to trust the One who created the garden in the first place.
“To everything there is a season…”
And when the season changes, may we have the faith to change with it—knowing that the God who was faithful in the growing season will be just as faithful in the resting one.
And maybe that is the greatest harvest of all.
