Hope Rises

[When God is Silent]

The days get shorter as leaves change their colour and fall swiftly to the ground. The changing season is a reminder of things past, as well as things now present. The approaching season’s quietness, and it’s stillness doesn’t mirror how I feel within.  I don’t know what to do with the silence; I’m restless; I wasn’t prepared for this.  I’m struggling to understand,  and all that I’m met with is more silence.  I can’t see what’s up ahead, and I’m growing impatient.  Will I ever learn to wait patiently? There’s a part of me that rejects this lesson; all this stillness is difficult.

Inspiration seems to fade, and colour turns grey, but how I feel is irrelevant; that’s not a sad fact. Feelings have their place and their time, but they also have to be tempered; sometimes side stepped even. Discipline is difficult; the routine of it is monotonous, but necessary.  I’ve grown tired, and I’m weary. I look ahead as if the distance is so great, and the winter will last too long.

Life goes on around me, but my world seems to stand still. Frustrations set in while I long for a new season; one that’s fresh, alive, and vibrant.

As the sun comes up, it’s warmth and it’s calming light, like a beacon off in the distance, reminds me of what ultimately waits up ahead. What a glorious day that will be indeed.  Suddenly hope rises again within me. It will all be worth it.   That new season is not so out of reach;  no, it’s not so far away.

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