It came to me this morning, when I am lying awake, but not yet fully out of the realm of dreams and desires. I could barely see the rays of sunlight filtering through the blinds, but I had a clear picture in my mind of a photo that I saw yesterday.
Taken on a whimsical moment with the camera on my mobile phone back in May, it was a day that saw me trekking towards my 20km runs. What fascinated me then were the big fat colorful leaves, the graceful falling and the refreshing cold wind.
I clearly remember the chattering students going about their lazy and busy days. The lady from the catering place was clattering the trays of Dim Sims and coffee cups, on her way to an appointment. The loud snaps and clacks of the professional camera that a nerdy youngster was caressing in his large hands trying to frame every single moment of every falling leaf.
Now as I look at that photo, I am a little irked that I see not the glorious colors and wonderful act of nature. I see an impending tree of morbid limbs and disappearing foliage. I see the loss of moments. I see a naked and shivering core, trembling to its source.
But I am reminded of this post. I am reminded of the joy that Spring may bring to these trees that were busy shedding their leaves a few months ago.
And this is when I finally understood the meaning of docility to grace.
Far from being a conscious submission to God, it is the acceptance that our lives are in the hands of someone other than our own despite ones’ desire for ownership and self-identity. It is recognition that the universe of our future is far more than the transient mortal world of our waking moments. There is a certain release from the medals and trophies of our wanting minds. For what is imminent are not the rewards that we deserve but the riches of those that we will be entrusted with.
I now know not the estimation of the distances of my puny and juvenile life. But I finally see that the destinations are not one of my choosing. That the winds may carry music upon their wings, but one will never be deserving of appreciating their beauty while they go past. There are unfortunately certain privileges and riches in life, that may only be granted on hindsight.
Such is my solemn consolidation on a Sunday morning.
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