Autumn’s Notes

By Autumn Gavlock

“Hey friends, Autumn is here! I hope if you’re reading this, you’ve just poured yourself a hot cup of coffee and are ready to hear about one of those days where God took a simple school event and turned it into a surprisingly big lesson for me.”

The Halloween parade that afternoon was perfect fall weather—crisp air, bright sunlight, the kind of day that makes you grateful for small-town traditions. I stood on the sidewalk outside the school, surrounded by parents and neighbors, some holding cameras, others chatting excitedly, all of us searching for our kids. The announcement came that the parade was about to start, and I could hear it—the shuffle of little feet, the sweet chatter of their small voices, and the faint strains of spooky music from a distance. Parents leaned close, talking about costumes and their excitement for the big reveal, faces beaming with pride. And then the teachers appeared, leading their classes around the loop, waving and smiling, as families cheered, clapped, and soaked in every small, precious detail.

It’s one of those moments that never gets old — watching your child come around the corner, searching the crowd for your face, their smile stretching wide when they find you. My middle daughter was dressed as a pop star, and she looked every bit the part. She waved, laughed with her classmates, and soaked in the moment. She was one of many girls dressed as this same character—it was a very popular choice this year—but there was something about the way she shined that was completely her own.

After the parade, the kids went back inside for the rest of their school day, and parents went about their afternoons. Everything about it seemed perfect.

But when I returned to pick her up at the end of the day, I noticed right away that something had shifted. The sparkle that usually follows a school celebration just wasn’t there. I expected to hear all about the parade and the fun, but instead she climbed into the car quietly, her usual chatter replaced by a soft sigh.

After a minute, she told me what had happened. Some of the other kids at school had teased her about where her wig was — the wig that completed the “pop star” look most of her friends had worn. She didn’t have one, and that had made her feel different.

I could picture it clearly: a sea of bright wigs bobbing along the parade route, with my daughter walking among them, her costume suddenly feeling incomplete. My heart sank. How had I not thought about the wig for the school parade?

The truth was, I had decided not to buy the wig. It wasn’t so much about the cost — although I did find it a bit expensive for a one-time wear, it was about wanting to create something special for her myself. I’d planned to do her hair in the intricate braid the character wears and color it the bright purple color of her hair for Halloween night. But in that parade moment, she didn’t have the braid or the purple hair yet. Her hair was still blonde, a simple braid, and the difference stood out.

You know, in that moment it hit me—sometimes we buy the wig, and sometimes we braid the hair ourselves. Neither is right or wrong; both are ways of showing love and creativity to our children. What really matters isn’t the wig, or even the braid, but the thought behind it. Parenting isn’t about keeping up or getting it perfect. It’s about the little choices we make, the love we pour into them, and letting our children know they are seen, valued, and cherished—exactly as they are.

That evening, I reminded her that standing out is okay—her worth comes from who God made her to be, not from material things or what this world says we should be. She smiled, realizing that missing the wig that day didn’t matter, because she had a mommy who loved her and a Heavenly Father who always would. She then couldn’t stop talking about how excited she was for her own hair to be braided that Halloween, special by her mom.

That’s parenting, isn’t it? We do our best to teach our children that they don’t have to look or be like everyone else to be loved, to belong, or to shine.Because the truth is, God’s beauty often shows up most brightly in the places where we’re different.Like a single, clear note in a symphony, standing out yet blending perfectly into the melody He’s orchestrating for our lives.

But God’s lessons this week did not end with just my daughter… He is constantly teaching all of us, guiding us, and reminding us that with Him, and only with Him, we have the strength, wisdom, and grace to navigate life’s challenges.

Halloween night arrived two days after the school parade, and it was finally time to complete my daughter’s pop-star look. My plan had been simple: execute the fancy braid in her hair and use the store-bought Halloween hair coloring spray to turn it the bright purple color of her characters. But after frantically searching several local stores all week, I couldn’t find a single can of purple.That familiar sinking feeling rushed back, the worry that I was going to disappoint her if I couldn’t give her the perfect purple braid to complete her costume.

All the “I should have” thoughts ran through my mind, the negative, self-critical ones that can spiral so quickly.

And then I stopped. I reminded myself that these are not words I would ever speak to anyone else, and certainly not words my Heavenly Father would say to or about me. I reminded myself of what is written in Romans 8:38-39 — that nothing can separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Not fear, not failure, not imperfection. Even in moments of doubt, His love holds me steady, and I can trust that I am enough, exactly as I am.

So I started thinking creatively, looking for an alternative. After a little research, I found a solution using purple eyeshadow and baby powder. Yes, you heard that right — and it worked! When I finally revealed to her on Halloween night her finished pop-star look, her eyes lit up. She took in her perfectly purple braid, and then turned and gave me the biggest hug, and said, “Mommy, you’re the best, I love you!”

Looking back on that night, I realized that these moments are about so much more than hair or costumes. They are opportunities to show our children how to navigate challenges with creativity, patience, and faith. It reminded me that parenting isn’t about perfection; it’s about presence, effort, and the love we pour into our children, even when things don’t go exactly as planned. God uses these small, everyday struggles to teach us and our children that worth and joy aren’t measured by store-bought versus homemade, or “getting it right every time,” but by the heart and intention behind our actions. In the end, my daughter’s excitement wasn’t about the perfect braid or the exact shade of purple; it was about seeing her mommy try, overcome, and love deeply. And that, I realized, is exactly how God wants us to live showing love, trusting Him, and embracing the imperfect, beautiful process along the way.

Life, just like that Halloween parade, is full of little, imperfect moments , the laughter, the music, the shuffle of tiny feet. Each of us adds our own note to the melody God is creating. And even when we feel out of tune, every note matters, every pause has a purpose, and somehow, together, the song turns out even more beautiful than we could ever imagine.

Until next week, may your days have a little music, your heart feel God’s grace, and your home be a place where creativity, love, and faith shine brighter than perfection ever could. Remember, it’s okay to stand out, to embrace the differences that make you and your children unique, and to trust that God’s love is always enough.

-A.