Nature’s green is giving way to a palette of a thousand pigments.  

Every hue scatters across the forest floor, like clippings of color drifted down from the easel of the Great Artist.  The tones dance all around me—blazing scarlets, bold goldens, slow-simmering oranges—or any combination thereof.  Even the brown leaves, upon closer inspection, wrap a world of color in their seemingly mundane tints.  

But the most beautiful leaf of all is one that you might not expect.

These special leaves are particularly enticing.  They’re a stunning scarlet, unique among all others.  In fact, the splendor of the climbing vine on which they grow always eclipses the leaves of the host tree.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come across the vine’s tendrils snaking up a trunk, tempting red leaves dangling.  And every time, I’ve longed to gather them and cup all that color in my hands.   

However, that would be a disastrous decision.  You see, these seemingly stellar leaves belong to one of the most despised plants in creation—poison ivy. 

It always strikes me as a monstrous injustice that the most breathtaking color in the autumn woods is reserved for the least beneficial leaves.  Yet it’s the truth.  More stunning than the maples, more vivid than the oaks, more alluring than the sweetgums, is the poison ivy.  Often, inexperienced visitors to the outdoors eagerly gather these leaves without realizing what they truly are…and as you can imagine, great suffering results.  

But this post is far more than just a complaint about why poison ivy seems to enjoy special favor.  It’s a consideration of something more serious, something that is perfectly exemplified by those ripping red leaves:  temptation. 

No, we may not all pine after lovely leaves, but we’ve all felt the tidal tug of temptation.  I’m reminded of the church father James’s words to his readers:  “Let no one say when he is tempted, ‘I am being tempted by God,’ for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one.  But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire” (James 1:13-14 ESV).  In other words, God doesn’t tempt us, but we tempt ourselves.  And although we often seem to think that as Christians, we should somehow be immune from temptation, we’re definitely not.  When we trust Jesus, we don’t become perfect people with sanitized souls—we’re still imperfect humans reliant fully on the grace of God.  And until we reach eternity, we’ll hear the tune of temptation on a daily—even hourly—basis.  Our best defense is to study the strategy of temptation so we can be prepared to defeat it…and incredibly, the best lesson available might just come from those poison ivy leaves.  

For one thing, just like the poison ivy, temptation is readily available.  This time of year, those scarlet leaves flash from every corner of the forest.  And in just that way, temptation beckons to us from a million different directions every day.  Some would blame this on the seduction of our culture and the prevalence of modern media.  And while it’s tragically true that this deadly combination has made sinning in secret easier than ever before, the greatest source of sin is still, as James said, within us.  As long as our wills, emotions, thoughts, and desires are corrupted by our flesh, there is no place we can escape temptation.   

Secondly, temptation is often not recognized for what it is.  Nearly anyone can recognize poison ivy in its summertime garb; we can glibly chant, “Leaves of three; let it be” if we’ve spent any time in the woods at all. But when poison ivy appears not as the tricky trinity and instead as luscious red leaves dangling just over our heads, it doesn’t look at all like what we expect.  And in the same fashion, temptation can disguise itself, changing its color and characteristics to match any situation and mislead us about its identity.  As Paul reminded the church at Corinth, “Even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light” (2 Corinthians 11:14b ESV).  If Satan, the very incarnation of evil, can so dazzle our souls that we mistake him for a holy emissary of God, then certainly the temptations around us can deceive.    

And to make matters worse, the disguise is so enticing!  This is perhaps temptation’s most devastating tactic.  The leaves are so beautiful that they make everything else look drab by comparison; we feel we can’t help but reach for them.  And just so, temptation can appear unbearably attractive, far more desirable than any wholesome alternatives.  The relationship has some red flags, but it makes us feel so good.  We know losing our temper isn’t ideal, but how can we not deliver that cutting reply?  We know we should back away, but instead we lean in for just one more look.  It’s a sobering truth that sin doesn’t usually taste like bitter poison; instead, it’s the sweet syrup of honey…at least at first.  

But that delightful façade soon fades when we give in, because despite its effusive promises, temptation acted upon can deliver only one thing—terrible suffering.  Anyone who gathers poison ivy leaves is in for long days of torture.  And far beyond a few uncomfortably itchy days, the effects of a single temptation can last for months or years or even a lifetime.  In a sober conclusion to his previous remarks, James gave this devastating indictment:  “Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.  Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers” (James 1:15-16 ESV).  For every moment of cheap satisfaction temptation can give, it renders a mountain of misery—and consequences that can’t be undone.  

Widespread opportunity—disguised identity—sweet appearance—and terrible destruction.  This is the cycle of temptation.  And for an example of how all these factors unfold in real life, we need look no further than the Biblical account of a man named Achan.  Few people have heard of this character, but his biography is actually the sobering sequel to a far more familiar tale—that of Joshua and the battle of Jericho.  

What many people don’t realize is that when Israel was conquering Jericho, God instructed the people not to take any of the spoils of the city.  Rather, everything was to be dedicated to Him as a sign of gratitude for the conquest and trust for the upcoming military campaign.  But although Joshua announced this to the people, one man just couldn’t resist.  “But the people of Israel broke faith in regard to the devoted things, for Achan the son of Carmi…of the tribe of Judah, took some of the devoted things” (Joshua 7:1 ESV).

At first, nothing happens.  The account continues, with Joshua sending spies to scout for the next battle and the warriors being chosen.  Achan must have thought he’d gotten away with his sin, and we as the readers are starting to agree.  But then the consequences begin to loom.  The battle goes south, and the Israelites are gravely defeated.  In desperation, Joshua begs God for a reason and receives this response:  “Israel has sinned; they have transgressed my covenant that I commanded them; they have taken some of the devoted things; they have stolen and lied and put them among their own belongings.  Therefore the people of Israel cannot stand before their enemies” (v. 11-12 ESV).

I read those words, and I can feel the weight of Achan’s thoughtless act.  Isn’t it tragic?  His decision must have seemed harmless at the time, but it caused intense suffering—ultimately resulting in his own death, his family’s destruction, and the entire nation’s defeat.  This account is a sobering reminder that yielding to the siren-song of temptation is the shortest road to ruin.  Beneath the often-glamorous gateway is a dark chasm of defeat that can send shock waves through our lives and those of everyone around us.    

So what do we do when temptation is so alluring?  When those red leaves are rustling right in our face and the pressure feels unbearable, what can we do? 

The first step to defeating temptation is to remind ourselves of the suffering it causes.  Peter exhorted his readers that sinful desires “wage war against the soul” (1 Peter 2:11b NASB).  Paul was even more blunt:  “The wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23a ESV).  Death is the only lasting result of temptation.  We cannot afford to play games with the enemy—not when our souls are at stake.  

Secondly, we run.  Even if it feels incredibly difficult, even if we think the effort might rip our souls apart, we force ourselves into action.  There’s a reason why Paul instructed Timothy to “flee youthful lusts” (2 Timothy 2:22a KJV).  We’re not supposed to linger near our temptations, gazing at them wistfully.  We’re not even supposed to slowly wander away from them.  No, we are told to flee—to run as fast and far in the other direction as possible.  No matter what it takes—derailing our train of thought, choosing a different attitude, shutting down the website, or turning off the television—we remove our bodies, minds, and spirits from the presence of temptation.  

But most important of all to remember is this:  we’re not alone.  God doesn’t demand that we overcome temptation through our own feeble efforts.  We aren’t asked to summon the self-control, the strength, or the courage to defeat the enemy.  Instead, we find the victory already won for us in the Person of Jesus Christ.  “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses,” the author of Hebrews encourages us, “but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:15 ESV).

Don’t miss this:  because He is God, He can share His righteousness with us.  But because He is man, He has compassion for our weaknesses.  He can lovingly warn us when we’re walking into a trap.  He can give us strength to resist when the effort seems too hard.  And even in the moments when we’ve fallen and failed, He is there to soothe our souls and blanket us in forgiveness—and to help us rise again.

And that’s the greatest truth to which we can cling today.  Yes, we live in a world that’s replete with temptation.  I’m reminded of that on every woodland ramble this time of year, as I see those red poison ivy leaves swaying in the cool October breeze.  They look so enticing, but just the thought of the suffering they cause is enough to make me walk away.  May we all have this attitude when we’re facing down a temptation.  Let’s remember its deadliness and dash from its grip.  Most importantly, let’s run to our merciful Savior—the same One Who can rescue us from the trap of temptation now and forever.  

Did you enjoy this post? Let me know in the comments! Also, for another post about the colorful autumn leaves (with a more positive spin 🙂 ), click here!

Also, I have exciting news! I was recently interviewed by Candice Reyes of Hooks2Crook Ministries, and our conversation was featured on the Red Rover Podcast! Tune in to listen as we chat about how I identified my writer’s calling, what burdens the Lord has laid on my heart, and why I draw encouragement from the natural world. You don’t want to miss this episode; click here to listen!