Seasons.

I’m looking out of the cafe I usually sit at in Beecroft and I have been noticing a particular tree change over the last 5 months. From having countless beautiful tiny white flowery blooms in late winter to tender light green spring leaves in spring to a darker harsher full and strong foliage as it holds right now at the start of summer.

And I have been noticing that my heart is sometimes in a state of unhealthy waiting and wanting for something better. For the “next step” to arrive. For more money, for more pleasure, for more of Christ and his kingdom, for more happiness, for a better job, for more of my dreams to be fulfilled. It is a wanting that has a dangerous thought tacked on: “if only”. “If only” I got to this place in my business, or “if only” I had this or that. And indeed the fact is that our hearts are constantly presented with a smorgasbord of delights and pleasures in our media-crazy society that most of us don’t have the capacity to have. Perhaps I contribute to that – I sent my first marketing email for the dental surgery a few weeks ago.

And yet, longing and desiring for better or more is actually, I think, a beautiful thing in itself. For there must be some measure of dissatisfaction before there can be a measure of satisfaction. It takes some measure of hunger to enjoy any kind of food. It takes longing and desire for there to be fulfilment.

So I am noticing a tension that must exist – of the need holding my heart and my mind in a place of complete contentment and complete dissatisfaction. It’s almost this paradoxical state of wanting for something more without needing it. I can’t describe it fully, nor do I probably have the emotional capacity to walk it out fully.

But let me just say there is something beautiful about being able to yield to the season which we are in, whether it be hard or easy, barren or productive, painful or joyful. For there are no glorious summers without the beautiful spring. There are no beautiful springs without the harsh and cold winters. There are no harsh and cold winters without the peaceful autumns. And I sense that a stretching and a growing is always occurring in the waiting. There is a reason for every season. Nothing is wasted.

It’s all about the destination, but perhaps equally if more all about the journey.

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