It was my intention to find a spot just over the hill a bit further out, where I spotted some incredible trees in the summer, and knew that autumn would have taken them captive with its flaming colours. I drove about for a while, partly because I hadn't quite found the right place, and partly because I was stuck on a track on the album which got me a bit lost in thought. And then I saw it. A glow of gold loomed in front of me as I drove up a hill, lined in trees. Around a bend, through a field and over a sheep's feeding trough, I caught a glimpse of more colour, and much much more sky. So I followed, winding my way uphill until I reached the brow, where I was able to turn off and caught the beginnings of a sunset in all its glory over a drystone wall. Amazingly, there was a car park, and a bench... just perfect. Grabbing my bag, I jumped out (I could sense that this would not be a lingering sunset) and made my way to the top of the hill where above some rocks, I had an incredible 360° view of the surrounding area. Breathtaking.
And then, right in front of me the sun was slowly ebbing away below the horizon, glowing a deep fuschia pink, with streaks of gold flying out from it across the sky, and wafts of pale pink floating like candy floss clouds across a sea of colour. It was stunning. I stood there a while, with my mug of hot chocolate, before wandering down to the bench to enjoy watching the colours fade as the sky returned to normal and night began to descend.
Just as it began to get dark, and I started to get cold, I decided it was time to head home. Taking a different path back to the car, I found myself walking next to a shaded glade of huge beech trees, surrounded by a low drystone wall with plenty of gaps in it. Stood beneath a canopy of suspended colour, I was amazed by the variety in the colours of the leaves - I mean, I embrace autumn every single year, and yet I was astounded by the depth and variety of colour that occured on one single branch. Leaves of auburn, red, gold, bright yellow, green, ochre and brown. Some tinged with more than one shade or tone. Just beautiful. As I returned to the car, I remembered that I had found everything I had gone looking for, and found them all in one perfect moment.
The thing is, I couldn't have created that if I'd tried. A tradition I have back home is to go outside to a grass bank outside the house and watch the sunset. Every day. I have done so pretty much every day that I've been at home since my first few weeks of lower sixth. There is something magical about the fact that every single night (apart from the rainy ones) the sun sets a completely different way. Sometimes it is sudden and violent in its dramatic array of colour, and others it almost slips away unnoticed with a glow of yellows and blues. The thing is, there are so many times where I've hoped to catch the sunset and just missed it. Or got outside just after the sun has dropped its head below the horizon, only to catch the end. Tonight, I hoped that I might perhaps stumble across it, but that was it. And I was completely blow away by it.
When I thought about it as I drove home, it really spoke to me of God and what he does if we'll only expect of him, and then give him the space to do it how he would like. He is the great artist after all. I love the sentiment of 'Carpe Diem', the sense of seizing the day, seizing the moment and making it great. I think sometimes though it can miss that echo of needing to wait and savour the moment. It speaks of a valiant rushing out to battle at the right moment - to have that you must wait long enough to know what that moment it when it happens. Similarly, when we set our hearts to seek God, we too should allow him the time and space to truly create something great. I think today I learnt something as I dedicated that time to finding the sky, trees and hilltop. I was determined not to come back unless and until I had done so. I was expectant, that I would. And I wasn't exactly sure where exactly it was going to come from. Had I gone to the hilltop I first thought of, I would have missed the canvas that God painted for me, because it faces a different direction and the sunset would simply not have been visible. God is a God who loves and created detail, and I think in our eagerness we expect the best, but determine how it will arrive.
I love the art of creating that perfect moment. A favourite evening activity when I'm on my own is to light candles around my room, put on a killer album, and paint. Or read. Or write. The thing is, when I do that, what I produce is of better quality but also, there is a stillness in my soul created by the sense of having arrived early for the main event. Like tonight, I arrived just before the first act. And because of that, it was so much better than I could have imagined. I think in my learning to seek God, I might try out the art of preparing for, and creating that perfect moment by making time for God, preparing the space for him, and arriving a little bit early... because I never know just how he might arrive, or what he might say, and I want to give him that space to surprise me.
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