Finding God on Gannon’s Campus

The smell of pumpkin spiced lattes fills the air as figures in fashionable boots and scarves scurry to class.

Damp red-brown leaves cover the brick walkways through buildings. A slight breeze and overcast sky give the eerie feeling of a brand new season upon us.

Growing up in the country, fall meant that pumpkins were to be picked and that homemade costumes were to be stitched.

As beautiful and colorful as this season may be, I never felt a true love for it like I did the others.

Snowfall meant Christmas presents. The spring smell brought on the end of frozen days. Summer clearly meant freedom. But fall was depressing to me.

I hated watching the beautiful trees shrivel up and drop piles of dead leaves on the grass.

The overcast skies made me miss the warm sun on my skin. Colder temperatures made my feet so cold.

At a young age, I used to always ask my parents what their favorite season was. And to my own disbelief, they would respond that it was, wait for it, FALL.

For years, I did not understand how this transitional season of the end of beautiful summer days could be treasured by them.

Thinking of having four seasons now, I am reminded of the book of Ecclesiastes 3:1 that reads “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.”

Hearing the truth from the ultimate book of truth really shows how I am not meant to live my days endlessly stuck in the summer sun.

There must be this transition of death and sleep to provide for a new season of life and vitality.

Fall has beauty in the changing of the leaves as the green fades away.

With each falling leaf, we can be reminded of the promise of a new beginning that awaits us.

A new season that may bring joy and hope.

Over fall break, I walked with my dad down a dirt road near my house. Our walks involve conversations about anything and everything.

Walking under the leaves of neighboring woods, I was truly able to capture the beauty of a new time.

A time for change is upon us and a season of hope.

Walking beside him, I knew what the answer would be, but I dared to ask it anyway.

“What is your favorite season?”

Looking at the amber leaves swaying in the brisk wind, I noticed that the smile on my father’s face said it all.


[email protected]