“Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.”
Robert Brault
There is a certain time between seasons, both emotional and physical, when we must seek out the smallest signs of life in order to emerge on the other side with joy and thanksgiving. It is these small, hidden pockets of hope that encourage us to take one small step at a time as we face the uncertain future.
Often those small pockets of joy are well hidden behind grief, depression, anxiety or loneliness. The dark clouds of the gray winter landscape pour a dreary pallor over the sleeping earth, just as our thoughts seem to send us into an even colder place inside our own lives.
Questions tumble forth from deep within. Why me? Why now? When will it end? Will things ever get better? What will the future hold? Our thoughts revolve around an incident, a conversation, an encounter that causes us to question and be questioned. We wonder if this emotional winter will ever coax forth the promise of a hopeful spring. And so, with faith we cling to the little things.
Yet, on this very day as I gaze at the dark horizon, I see among the heavy clouds an opening. Within minutes this opening allows one single ray of sunshine to escape. That ray, so powerful, so full of hope and promise, sets the mountain peak aglow with its radiance. The snow sparkles, reflecting the strength of the shining sun; reflecting inside of me the hope for a better tomorrow.
As the sun continues to warm the earth, I look outside of my own walls and see other signs of hope and promise. Tender crocus shoots are emerging from the frozen earth. Robins have returned to their nests seeking refuge as they search for worms among the brown grass. Soon they will lay those beautiful blue eggs, a promise of better things to come.
Questions continue to flow through my mind, but the answers look different. Surrounded by these physical signs of hope, my own questions, once full of despair and longing, now bear witness to my place in creation. I, too, have a purpose. The season of looking within, is giving way to the season of looking out; out at the beauty and the gifts that I have been given.
There will always be questions. Understanding will never be mine for the taking. But as each moment brings small glimpses of hope and promise, they will surely manifest themselves into something much, much larger.
Published in the Choteau Acantha 4-6-11
