(This is not the same sunset. I added it for visual effect. I didn't take a picture of today's sunset. See below.
I barely saw it though.
Looking back, the sky was lit up with color everywhere, pink hues and clouds that looked like colored pencil drawings.
It was easy to miss.
The act of seeing requires work.
My mind drifted in and out of thoughts from the flutter of activities during the day- to -do I have time to stop at the mall' -to- the mall is my least favorite place of all- to -I wonder if I should just eat leftovers for dinner- to- why does it get dark so early- to- I keep forgetting to buy baby gifts for every single friend who has had a baby this month!
It's no wonder all my creativity feels a bit stale at the moment, even though I decide to pour out what little I have for this 31 -- I mean 21 -- I mean possibly 11 days project.
The sunset comes back to me now and I remember its brightness.
I remember the goal here is NOT what I think it is.
Not the end of the month
finishing a book
making sense of a complicated relationship
reaching some milestone with my blog.
No? I thought these sounded good. Maybe they are in some ways. Maybe we all desire a longing for completing something.
Emily Freeman reminds us that there is a deeper work happening here.
What if the art, what if our hope comes out in the waiting? What if that's when we learn to trust? Learn to shed our skin a little, to accept the things that need to change, crack the surface, and surrender to ourselves, the ways we want to solve and fix and complete.
What if we can't manufacture art, in or around ourselves, anymore than we can manufacture our own safe places?
Emily says that when what we long for is completion, mostly we are looking for a "tangible work you can hold and point to.
"Your souvenir may be a relationship, an education, an investment, a charitable cause," she says.
"As you stare at the stone of the hoped-for souvenir, remember the deeper work happening within you, where your life is hidden with Christ in God."
All these things happen in hidden, mysterious places, but I put limits on God when I believe I can do it better than Him, faster than Him.
Friends, where are you in waiting now?
Where does life look a lot like trying...or striving for completion?