I’m joining in with a group of writers for Five Minute Friday where we’re given a prompt (this week it’s BEYOND) and write for five minutes about it.
It’s one of those words with subtle nuances in meaning, depending on whether it’s used as a preposition, adverb, or noun. This morning, I’m considering it in terms of something “out there”. Something yet to come. As in “when we move beyond the pandemic”.
And it fits with my early morning musing about perspective, and how we need a bit of distance in order to see things clearly. When we’re too close to something for too long, our vision becomes distorted, our focus fixed. We don’t see the larger story.
So too if we’re only “big picture” people. Details slip by unnoticed and untended to. We’ve all experienced consequences of ignored detail.
The truth about life is that there is an ebb and a flow. A big picture and one seen only on closer examination. Life in the time of Corona and life beyond it.
And—dare I say—there is truth and beauty and wisdom in both facets of the same thing. The challenge is not to be too focused on the elusive beyond that we don’t appreciate the now; and not too focused on present trials that we lose the gift of hope.
This year, when broken down to its bones, is not all that different from other struggles we’ve faced and come through, except that the whole world is groaning and going through it at the same time. That’s powerful in effect, but also in truth if we pay attention.
(My Friday’s Fave Five post is up on my other blog.)
Yes! We need to focus on the Hope, and not on all the what ifs. It’s easy to get distracted by the future and all the possibilities. I’m your neighbor today at FMF, and I don’t think I’ve visited before! I’m happy to make your acquaintance :).
“The truth about life is that there is an ebb and a flow.” So very true.
Amie, FMF #8
HOPE. It is now. And, it is our beyond!!! #13
yes, the constant forward wishing will not heal our hurting hearts! Our focus must be the now and the Hope we have in Jesus EVEN STILL.
Yes, the picture may be big,
like in a Marvel movie,
but it’s the details that I dig,
which make the whole thing groovy.
Sure, some things may really rag
the patience out of my own head,
but since anger ain’t my bag,
I’ll sing a song instead,
’bout the blues of Folsom Prison,
or the chain gang life,
or that awful season
when I divorced my wife
(but we’re once again wed happily,
since she accepted my apology).