I am suspended like a photograph of a bird mid-flight, and I wait to be released into the next part of your plan (as many graduates are doing right now). I try some doors and consider and re-consider and turn options upside down and inside out because I can’t resist analysing things to death, sometimes.
But I am learning that I can trust my gut feelings about options that might fit the dreams you inspired in me, and that helps to narrow things down.
The waiting period is hard because my view is so restricted to what is directly in front of me, and that really comes back to control, doesn’t it; that there’s a part of me that likes to see things arranged out neatly and I can manoeuvre the little pieces… not like pieces on a chess board because life is decidedly less black and white than a chess board… maybe more like The Sims. Waiting periods are good for trust. You’ve shown me repeatedly through times like this that you are entirely capable of holding my life in your hands, allowing room for variation and surprise and spontaneity, whilst handling those little pieces with perfect skill.
Yesterday I walked down that familiar stretch of country road and I was so frustrated, God, because despite recognising what you’ve done for me in the past, I felt such impotence at not being able to see. Quite literally at that point, as the low sun dazzled eyes already half-blinded by tears. Tears that sometimes just happen as a result of this being a really hard year, and yesterday was one of those times (and thank you to all of the people who don’t like going for walks that the lane was so empty, because I must have looked a bit of a mess). And then I turned around to look behind me and there was about a third of a rainbow visible against a wash of grey. It was bizarre, that stretch of rainbow, almost vertical, faint but definitely present. Where was the rest of it?
And you said ‘Look, isn’t that still beautiful? Even that small part? Even though you don’t see the whole thing?’
Yeah. It was still beautiful. Not seeing the whole picture doesn’t diminish the beauty of the parts I can see. Thanks for reminding me of that.
Beauty in stillness, in waiting, in the blind trusting.
The best part about waiting periods is that they’re temporary, of course.
Thanks for that, too.