In some sense, the future is always uncertain. Get too entrenched
into your dreams, and if they must change, it’s a great pain. I am a tree who wished but to be, but the
storm uprooted me, the man carved and fashioned and set thee out to sea, until
my roots become but memory and what’s left? Only to be drifting now to dream.
I’m locked and loaded into a cannon, and I can plan my trip
into the sea, but what if I land on the moon? There’s joy there, too, just of a
different sort, and one I didn’t see coming. Part of contentedness is knowing
of the uncertainty of the future, and seeing the difficulty of the past, and
still being joyful in the present. It’s in the passage in Matthew 6, regarding
the sparrow, and not simply a dreamy naiveté of “don’t worry, be happy”, but a
conscious effort of joy and peace.
I’m often good at this, and still must remind myself of it.
No comments:
Post a Comment