A Year of Sundays: 41st Sunday (10/12/25)

ING: ImagineNewGreatness
Oct 13
2 min read

The Season of Cycles and Subtle Grace

Fall has always been a special time of year for me. The air feels softer, the light more golden, and everything seems to whisper, “Slow down, reflect, and begin again.” The colors of the season—burnt orange, deep gold, russet, and amber—carry with them a quiet prosperity, reminding us that abundance and endings often arrive hand in hand.

This week, I found myself thinking deeply about the cycles of life. The falling leaves, the cool mornings, the scent of apples and earth—all are reminders that letting go can be beautiful, and that rest is not the end, but the beginning of renewal.

I am not one for the darker side of autumn—the ghosts, goblins, and fright-filled displays that mark the Halloween season. Yet, even in these symbols of fear and mystery, I have learned to find meaning. There is light, even in the shadow.

Lessons from the Unexpected

The works of Edgar Allan Poe and Alfred Hitchcock often explored fear, suspense, and the human psyche—but even they carried threads of hope and redemption. Poe, for instance, once wrote: “Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.”(Poe, 1846/2003) Even amid darkness, Poe recognized the power of imagination, of seeing beyond fear into creation. And Alfred Hitchcock, the master of suspense, once said: “There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it.”(Hitchcock, as cited in Truffaut, 1983, p. 54) His insight reminds us that what we fear is often the thought of what might happen—not reality itself. Faith, then, becomes our antidote to fear.

A Reflection for the Season

Fall teaches me that life is cyclical, not linear. Every loss holds the seed of a new beginning. Every shadow invites a glimmer of light. So, I choose to fill my home—and my heart—with cornucopias of gratitude, pumpkins of possibility, and apples of sweet reflection. I am learning to celebrate the fullness of this season, to see beauty in the balance of endings and beginnings.