This morning I went for a walk at a park, like I do most days. I walk around a mile-long trail two or three times. I like this park because most of the sides are bordered by a lake. However, this morning the park was engulfed in dense fog, hiding my view of the water. Even as I approached the part of the trail which runs within feet of the lake, I couldn’t see the water. I was reminded of the Truman Show, when Jim Carrey’s character discovers the border of his world, a white wall marking where known creation ends. As I walked I imagined the edges of the land as the ends of a painting, where the paint strokes end and exposed is bare white canvas.
The time to make decisions is so close to me now. The list of things I should have settled still has question marks placed beside most items. I ask him what exactly I should do, and I hear his voice tell me to wait, inaction being such a daunting order. But I do trust his voice.
As I continued on the trail, I began to appreciate how the fog distributed the light, softening even rocks and pointed branches. The tones were hushed, permitting the brighter hues to sleep in for just a few more minutes. The fog veiled the sun, subduing its intensity so that I mistook it for its nightly counterpart. I found the beauty of walking through the fog as I felt the presence of the One who lifts clouds from the ground with ease or allows them to remain among us. And so I continue to walk.
Less abstract translation:
My time at the Center for Global Action is coming to an end, and it is time for me to move on to the next step. There are some opportunities I’m looking into, but they are still up in the air. God keeps on telling me I’m where I’m supposed to be. I trust him, and he always takes very good care of me. Hopefully my next blog will be one full of certainties!
