Devotional: “When the Leaves Fall, God Still Sees the Tree”

 Here’s a devotional based on your beautiful, aching, hope-filled reflection:

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Devotional: “When the Leaves Fall, God Still Sees the Tree”

Psalm 103:9 — “He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever.”

There are seasons in life when accusations—spoken or unspoken—seem to cling to us like autumn leaves drenched in rain. Sometimes the people we once admired, trusted, or looked up to become the very voices (or silences) that weigh us down. Each misunderstanding, each slight, each moment of being unfairly judged can feel like another leaf torn from our branches.

Red.
Orange.
Yellow.
Burgundy.

Pieces of ourselves fluttering to the ground until our soul feels bare—an empty tree standing exposed against winter’s wind.

Yet Psalm 103:9 whispers something gentle: God does not accuse you like others may. He does not hold anger forever. He does not keep score or strip you down. Instead, He heals, restores, and renews.

And just as trees enter winter, not as failures, but as part of their God-given rhythm, so do we enter seasons of barrenness that are holy in their own way. A tree in winter is not dying—it is resting. Conserving. Preparing. Its roots are hard at work in the unseen places.

You are there now—underground, in the root system of your soul.
Not forgotten.
Not finished.
Not unproductive.

You are nurturing yourself the way a wise, gentle mother would cradle her child. For the first time in a long time, you are learning not to hand away every drop of energy and blessing the moment it arrives. You are staying, tending, listening. Holding yourself with the compassion you once gave everyone else.

Spring feels far off when human seasons don’t follow the tidy rhythm of nature. Sometimes our personal winters last years or even decades. Growth cycles can stretch longer than we ever expected. Waiting can feel endless. But spring is not optional—it is a promise built into your design.

And when your spring does come, new leaves will appear. Not rushed. Not forced. But right on time.

Fresh beginnings.
New identity.
A life rooted in truth, not accusation.
Growth that is yours alone—nourished from a season of deep soil work.

Prayer:
Lord, You see me in every season. When others accuse, You cover me with compassion. When my leaves fall, You stand with me as I wait through winter. Nurture the quiet places of my soul. Strengthen my roots as I care for myself in ways I never have before. Prepare me for the spring You have already planned—where new leaves, new hope, and new life will grow again. Amen.