This weekend

This weekend I’ve been considering daffodils.

I hadn’t intended on starting this short documentation of life leading up to the degree show on such a theological note, but given that this is essentially a space where I can freely articulate my thoughts, and my understanding (or lack thereof) of God is generally the basis for how I perceive the world, I decided to go ahead with it anyway.

I recently moved in with a good friend of mine. I met her on the Sunday, moved in Monday morning. After unpacking my stuff I noticed a vase of daffodils on my desk that she had put there for me.

It’s coming to the end of the time of year when daffodils are a common sight along verges and in parks in the city. There to be admired by passers by. I have been one of those admirers, frequently walking past a flurry of them on the days I choose to walk to uni, but none of them have meant as much to me as the few that sit on my desk.

A week or so went past and my daffodils that gave a cheery yellow greeting to the morning sun began to wilt. I began to ignore them a little so as to avoid the fact that I would have to throw them out soon.

I eventually resigned to the idea and headed to my room to carry out the sad act only to discover that my flatmate had replaced the old dead ones with new fresh ones.

The world we live in is laking in hope. The economy, the poverty, the insanity of it all. But somehow, don't ask me how, God is bigger than that. I guess this year has been pretty hard in the lack of time and inevitability that soon uni will be over, but not yet, and I just realised how easy it is to miss the daffodils if you don't just stop and evaluate. Daffodils are like a little sign of hope that spring is here and summer is just around the corner but they don't last forever. I've been stopping to take note of some daffodils lately but then they always seem to fade after a bit, but it always seems to be, that just when I'm about to give up hope, some fresh ones appear, just when you need them. They may not be earth shattering in they're affect, but that's not to say they're not appreciated.