Another fall of snow subtly covers the high ground of the Pegsdon hills. It isn't too cold and although the sky is overcast northwards, on the flatter plain, patches of sunlight brighten the cold winter landscape. A skylark sings unseen in the bleakness. In a vaguely sheltered spot, sitting on a log, I look out at the landscape below me - tired of the long cold winter and dormant nature.
The landscape and I, we both seem to be waiting. Darkness, cold and uncertainty keep close and energy seems hidden and tired. Yet, possibly, change is waiting to greet us when the time is right and the spirit awakes. There may be, yet, unwelcome moments of cold - like this snow - that brings fear, uncertainty and hardship for all. But something is waiting, gathering momentum, gathering energy and awaiting an outworking.
I seem to be following the season of winter closely. I has been a long, dark and cold. I haven't written for several months as somehow my thoughts have been focused elsewhere. But although I have not written, I know that I have been carrying the spirit that is contained within my writing. It feels as though the learning effort that has journeyed with me through my blog is now carrying me though my landscape and into a new place.
I pray for continued blessing and deep wisdom as I travel along my path. The spring landscape is there before me, waiting.
The skylark sings unseen in the bleakness.
* * * * *
This was written a few days ago. Today I handed in my notice to my employer and will start a new job in a few weeks time. It is a very anxious and emotionally challenging time for me. It is about taking risks. I am having to say goodbye to the familiar, to close work colleagues and to a job that I have enjoyed very much. I have decided to move on with the main aim of personal development. Moving on is a risk, but so is staying put. I decided that I could no longer be complacent about my work environment and need to be proactive to seek continued development.
I remember in the autumn of 2008 specifically praying around a campfire with my drum for change. I often feel that things move slowly for me - cycles of a year seem to crop up. Now just over a year and bit later, I am now seeing the fruits of that prayer - so I believe.