You’ve Carried Strength Into This Season

It started with a leaf.

One single, perfect leaf fluttered down past the window while I stood at the sink, elbow-deep in warm soapy water and surrounded by the hum of ordinary life. Dishes clinking. Dogs pacing. Kids in a not-so-hushed debate about whether the last toaster waffle was up for grabs.

It was the kind of fall day that’s easy to miss—equal parts chaos and comfort. And for a second, I paused. I really looked out the window. The leaf floated like it had nowhere urgent to be, and I thought, that’s the pace I want.

I wasn’t in a quiet mountain cabin.

I hadn’t lit the perfect fall candle.

My to-do list was bigger than my energy level.

But I realized something as that leaf spun down: I’ve done harder things than this. And I’ve done them tired, with dishes in the sink and backpacks by the door.

Because I didn’t stumble into this season empty-handed.

I walked in carrying strength I earned:

• In years of showing up tired but present.

• In choosing grace when snapping felt easier.

• In praying quietly over dinner while the microwave beeped and the dog barked and someone asked where their left shoe went.

We don’t get here all at once, and we don’t get here soft.

We get here steady.

Maybe today isn’t perfect.

Maybe there are socks on the floor and shoes that don’t fit and a part of you that wonders if you’re doing any of it right.

Here’s what I want you to remember: you’re not starting from scratch.

You’ve already grown through the hard seasons.

You’ve already chosen love when it was inconvenient.

You’ve already learned to rest, even if it's just with a hot mug and five minutes on the porch.

This season doesn’t need a brand-new version of you.

It just needs the real one.

Last night I reheated my chai for the second time and stood at the back door in my slippers, watching my youngest try to catch falling leaves like they were magic. He didn’t ask for anything big—just a moment with me, there in the swirl of orange and gold.

That’s when I felt it: I’m not behind. I’m here. In the middle of my actual life. And I brought strength with me.

“She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.”— Proverbs 31:25

So grab the mug that makes you smile. Wrap up in the blanket that smells like home. Watch the leaves fall like a slow-motion reminder: you’ve made it this far.

And you’re still going.

—The Rusted Sparrow