To freeze a moment in time, until the joy overwhelms the sojourner ~ we've all longed for the possibility. The beauty of life sweeps over and the allure of drinking in the moment, causes eyes to be closed in an effort to relish the seconds before they multiply, slipping from present to past. Almost dream-like, the mist passes over, leaving a frost-laden kiss of the moment. With heavy breath, Jack Frost does his best to freeze the moment in time, yet it's a futile attempt to lasso the grains of sand as they slip through the hourglass. As eyes open once again, the joy is prolonged only by the impressions left on the heart.
It's the first cry from a newborn. A lightning flash. Morning light dancing across mountain tops. A finish line crossed. A last kiss. The splash of Northern Lights in the night sky. A bull elk's bugle. A fresh blanket of snow. The release of an arrow. A final goodbye. A shooting star. The laugh of a loved one. The list goes on ...
Momentary beauty is but a glimmer;
It lingers, and then slips away.
With a hunger to write the next chapter
History seemingly wins day.
Not to be outdone, Future pulls forward,
allowing hope of a beauty
that someday will never fade away.
We grasp, willing time to stand still a bit longer. Pressing down on the hands of time, only creates the illusion that we have the power to stop the spinning. The onward progression towards the future wins, while History simultaneously reaches for the present. It's a battle. Or is it? It's more like a story. One that we write each day ... one we all play a part in.
What fascinates me about time is how hope weaves a pattern through it. While there's an important balance of cherishing the little things that make up life, allowing us to live in the moment, the value of hope for the future can't be overlooked. Life is so much more than living for the moment. There is something to be said about slowing down and learning to appreciate the little things in life, but I think there is incredible worth in looking forward to what lies ahead ... it is what allows the story to continue, encompassing hope.
The hunter knows this rhythm well. The release of an arrow finds it's mark. A moment of joy surrounds the hunter, clouding all of the hard work it took to get to there. Time appears to be eclipsed by the momentary thrill of success. A season ends just as quickly in that moment, and in the next breath the following season is eagerly anticipated. Great planning and preparation is made for what lies ahead. Hope for a bigger buck, another story, and future memories lie waiting on the horizon. The next story is waiting for the hunter to step into, so he counts the days.
"Teach us to number our days,
that we may gain a heart of wisdom."
But I'm not really referring to hunting. It's a nice illustration and one that I relate to well. I've been contemplating lately how we all look forward to these little events in life .. the next hunting season, a promotion, a well-earned vacation, life-milestones, etc. Honestly, sometimes it is what gets us through the day. The next adventure or whatever it is we hope for, pushes us on, providing excitement to reach that goal or hoped for moment, somewhere just around future's bend. I think God gives us these things in life to look forward to, as a glimpse of ... what it looks like to have hope for something more. There's a longing placed deep within in our hearts, fueled by Hope. It is what drives us forward because we want to see what is around the next bend in life. After all, "hope that is seen is no hope at all." So we press on.
"Now faith is the confidence in what we hope for and the assurance of what we do not see"
Beloved reader, my challenge to you is simply this ... Remember to hold loosely to the joy of the now, while resting in the assurance of the hope on the horizon. Press on. Write your story well, with the knowledge that the best is yet to come. Having faith in that assurance is up to you.
From the Draw
We are devoted to sharing our bowhunting stories. We have a passion for passing on our hunting heritage to our kids. From the draw in the mountains to the draw on paper, the moments live on.