O God Our Father,
the gardens of our
retirement community
will be open for visitors
this afternoon.
The dead marigolds,
chrysanthemums, and other plants
need to be removed.
We are putting the garden
to bed for the winter.
When we looked at the temperature
this morning
it was 32 degrees.
You planned the changing seasons, Father.
Change keeps us on our toes.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-2:
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted.

Hymn: Great Is Thy Faithfulness, verse 2


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