This morning, I was walking down the hill to town and from around the corner, a playful collie bounded! He ran toward me and then stopped, fixated on one thing. A spherical object that captivated his every moment and energised his every move. A slightly chewed, less fluorescent that once was, tennis ball lay before him. He was paused, eyes directed towards it, panting, and yet with the biggest smile.
Waiting: expectant, joyful
Moments later, his owner appeared too and made his way toward the yellow sphere. Turning to me with a "Good Morning" and a smile, he casually kicked the tennis ball further up the hill.
The dog was less casual, the moment the ball moved, he lept towards it in playful chase, catching it and then carrying it until, I should imagine, he laid it on the ground once more and waited.
Photo by Robin Jonathan Deutsch on Unsplash
Later on in my walk, I saw that in the night, due to the high winds, a familiar path was now laden with conkers. I am not one for sentiment but every now and then, something will capture my heart with nostalgia. Conkers are one of those things. I bent down to pick one up and placed it in my pocket.
I felt that familiar whisper of Holy Spirit trying to capture my heart. I quite often use conkers with young people I mentor, we talk about how they fall, and the casing breaks off. We talk about how for a tree to grow it would have to be buried underground (the conker, not the youth!) and that it might seem as if nothing is going on, but it is.
I thought of the dog. How he waited with joy and expectation, knowing at some point the ball would suddenly be launched again for him to catch.
It's tenuous I know, but pertinent still. I wonder where our expectation levels are.
I am in a process of waiting, and often it feels like nothing is happening. I am like a concern underground or like the dog, staring at the unmoving sphere. Only I am not like the dog, so often my joy is lacking, and I think, perhaps it has something to do with my expectation.
As one of my themes for October, I wrote 'play & sing'. Partly this just fitted with pre-booked events, but part of it was me recognising that I want play to be more present in my life. There was something in that Collie, that captured my heart, a nostalgia to just trusting and enjoying it; to play, to expect only good.
I am in a process of waiting, but I am going to believe that even if I can't see it, something is happening. I am in a process of waiting but it is hopeful, expectant, and joyful.
Photo by Alex Bello on Unsplash
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