I run. Whenever I can. But no longer do I run along the gorgeous streets in Australia. Oh how I miss those… Instead I am running around in circles in Indonesia. Literally.
It’s a little dull. In fact, incredibly monotonous. As I bound around a track where I live, I see the same guards, people, plants, buildings…every run. The most exciting part is passing the lobby every lap, because I get to dodge taxis, buses, cars, guards and dozens of school children. But it’s always the same.
So I was astounded this week when something looked different. Right next to the grey path. I could see a haze of bright pink on the grass. It was stunning. And surprising.
I looked for the source of this beauty. Under the leaves of a rather simple looking tree, were the most beautiful flowers. I don’t think I had ever seen such a flower before. They captivated me.
How had I missed them? They must have been under the canopy for some time, yet it wasn’t until the petals dropped to the ground that I noticed. I would have missed this moment of beauty otherwise. Which made me wonder.
What are you missing? What beauty is before you that you are failing to see? Everything feels the same but you have missed something gorgeous. In a person who is familiar? Maybe your husband, or your child. Are you still looking for the beauty in them? I want to be looking. Or perhaps, like me, you make assumptions about your environment. Fail to see the new, the surprising.
And can you see what remains after that blur of pink dresses the green below? Exquisite cups of grace. Left to enchant us.
What is left behind by you? When you brush alongside people every day of your life. Is there residual beauty? A word of encouragement? Of sympathy? Or Joy? Possibly subtle, but unmistakable and beautiful.
Perhaps the biggest question. Does your impact on others cause them to look up? You leave some shredded pink on the ground and they have to find the source of that. They don’t want to miss out.
When Jesus lived on this earth he gave extraordinary, vibrant, surprising love. To his closest friends. To strangers. He still does. And people wanted to know him. Because that source was intriguing. Worth stopping. Gazing up. Being captivated by.
There would be no grey, no green left in Jesus’ wake. Just pink.
What colour is on the ground surrounding you today?
Look beyond the grey. If someone is placing pink mist before you, give thanks. And as you surge through another ‘ordinary’ day, leave something exquisite.
May all around you be compelled to look up. To the giver of all good things. To the source.
By Pauline, Six Good Figs