Stuck: to be fixed in a particular position or unable to move or be moved.
Have you ever felt stuck?
It is now almost the end of October, and I don't know why it has taken so long for me to sit down and write what was grown in my heart almost 25 days ago. Perhaps it is only the fact that I am traveling back from Nottingham with my computer packed with downloaded movies that have decided not to work, that I turned to write this down. I am stuck, on a train, and so I have started to write.
I think it is generally around this time of year that I begin to take evaluation of what has been. As I head into the last quarter I begin to wonder if there was anything I was meaning to do this year, that needs a push to that final Dec 31st deadline, a new step of progress to be taken or in a few cases, the first step! This year has been different, many of the small goals I set have not come to pass because of larger decisions I have taken, or because situations have been curated by those other than me. Moderating Factors - that what we call them, things that could change the intended outcome, 2021 has presented a plethora!
One goal that has kept its rhythm, is the decision to walk through the same field at the beginning (or near to the beginning) of the month to take the same photo of a tree. It was whimsical, but also rhythmical, it meant I was able to reset my intentions at the beginning of the month, take stock, and revisit other goals.
"I can't believe it's still here"
If you have been following the tree journey you will know that for the past few months the field has been full of corn that is twice the size of me! I had kind of expected, having limited horticultural knowledge that by the time October rolled around, it would have been harvested.
I was not planning on walking, the morning was grey, not just with misery but the foggy hung low and showed no plans of leaving. The idea of being stuck in all day was toyed with, I could snuggle up in a duvet and watch non-stop films; or get out in the fog for a walk, then crawl back into bed for a day of film. I chose the latter, the need for the routine appointment with the tree overcoming the state of the sky.
I walked the route that has become familiar to me in the last 18 months, I see the landmarks as welcoming friends, I make arbitrary decisions about this way or that way knowing both will end up where I need them to but will present different challenges and joys along their way. As I turned into the fog-dipped field of corn, I muttered to no one other than myself "I can't believe it is still here". Almost immediately my heart leapt and grabbed the phrase and I followed with "I can't believe I am still here"
I walked, it is my way of processing and as I trudged through the field, rolling this phrase through my mind, I found a glorious distraction in the form of colour. Below the fog that tipped the tips of the corn were reds, and greens, golds and browns and peeking through beige cocoons the deep yellow of corn.
I walked, slower now, taking in the beauty, breathing in how the tree looked bathed in fog and surrounded by autumnally uniformed soldiers of corn. Hope flowed over the top of my thought, "you are not stuck, you are not still here, you are here, and here is where you should be" Corn can be harvested anytime from September to November, it has not missed out, it is still purposeful and, look how beautiful it is. Though it stood, looking ready to pick back in September, it was not clothed in such rich colour.
Hope
And so I wanted to encourage you today, as God encouraged me through the fog and the field; there is always beauty to be found. So this month, I am looking for the beauty to be found, in the situations, I still find myself in.
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