Autumn is upon us, and with it comes a certain craving for comfort. Maybe it’s the cooling air, the shorter days, or the smells of pumpkin, cinnamon, and peppermint wafting through coffee shops and kitchens. This is the season when we start to lean into comfort—comfort food, comfort clothing, comfort traditions.
Maybe that’s part of our human instinct to prepare for winter. Even here in Florida, where the “winter” season is mild compared to what I remember from Colorado, I still feel the urge to settle in, to find comfort wherever I can.
It’s been a rough summer for me and my family. My dad passed away suddenly in August, and his absence still feels fresh. I think October was always his favorite month—he loved watching the leaves turn, the brilliant colors against a crisp blue sky. I thought I would have one more chance to share that with him.
Maybe that’s why I’ve been more eager than usual in my search for comfort this fall.
The Search for Comfort
When life feels heavy, we instinctively reach for things that soothe us. For some, it’s a warm bowl of soup, a slice of pumpkin bread, or a mug of hot cider. For others, it’s the cozy familiarity of a favorite chair, a cherished routine, or even an “adult beverage” at the end of a long day.
There’s nothing wrong with any of that. God created our senses, our memories, and our capacity to enjoy good things. But these sources of comfort are temporary. They can ease our pain for a while, but they can’t truly heal it.
The real comfort we long for—the kind that reaches beyond our stomachs and settles deep into our souls—can only come from God.
God of All Comfort
The Bible describes God as the ultimate source of comfort—not comfort in the “easy chair” sense, but comfort as solace, peace, and reassurance when our hearts are heavy.
“Comfort, comfort my people,” says your God. “Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her hard service has been completed.”
These verses remind us that God’s comfort is personal and deep. It’s not about avoiding hardship; it’s about His presence within it. His comfort doesn’t come from changing our circumstances—it comes from changing us within those circumstances.
God isn’t primarily concerned with our physical comfort—how soft our pillows are or how cozy our homes feel. His concern is much greater: He wants to give us solace, not just softness.
Solace is peace that goes beyond understanding (Philippians 4:7). It’s knowing that even when grief comes, we’re not alone. It’s trusting that when the nights grow long, His Light will still find its way into our hearts.
That kind of comfort doesn’t fade like the warmth from a cup of coffee—it abides.
Conclusion
As this new season settles in, I’m learning that comfort food can warm the body, but only our Comfort God can soothe the soul.
He doesn’t promise a life free from pain or loss—even Jesus didn’t have that—but He promises His presence. And that presence—gentle, steady, loving—is enough.
So as I miss my dad and face the changing seasons ahead, I’m learning not to turn to cinnamon or pumpkin spice first, but to the Comforter Himself.
Because His comfort is not temporary—it’s eternal.
Master's Canvas - Writing & Photography by David K. Carpenter 