Sometimes we like where we’ve been even though the grass has dried out, the land is parched, and there is no new life in that place. The good memories of that place feel like they outweigh the bad. I still like the view. It’s hard to move on from that spot. Hope is telling me that in order to find the new life, I’ve got to leave. I realise that hope for future things means letting go of past things. So I’m trying. I know that I will find the first steps the hardest, and I’ve no doubt I will keep throwing backward glances at that place. I may even find myself running back to it. but hope tells me to see it for what it is – a parched, worn part of the landscape.
I did love that spot when the sun was shining on it.
The sun has gone now. It’s time to move on.