A Hazy Road

Looking through writing prompts, I came across this one: Smoke, fog, haze: Write about not being able to see in front of you.

Good ol’ writing prompts. This could have led me down a path of fiction; instead, it reminded me of a recent conversation I had.

This isn't the actual card, but it's pretty darn close. Photo 

I was asked to choose from a selection of photos one that reflects my walk with God right now. There were so many options – natural settings, city dwellings, people laughing, a kid crying, abstract patterns, mathematical equations, road signs.

I chose an image of a tree-lined road mostly obscured by fog. I’m sure you have either seen a similar image somewhere or experienced it first hand – what is immediately in front of you is clear, but anything beyond is in a haze.

I know where God has me right now – this part of the road is acutely in focus. However, there is also a road ahead that I will travel, but I don’t know what that looks like right now. I know there is more to my life than what I see, I just don’t know what the ‘more’ is.

On this hazy road, I have two options. The first is to stay where I am, only do what I am doing. After all, it’s clear here; it seems safe in its definition and clarity.

The second, the one that is more frightening, is to keep putting one foot in front of the other, moving forward into a bit of the unknown, saying yes to new opportunities, daring to dream new dreams. The second option requires more faith than planning, more expectancy than knowledge.

The second option still requires work, of course, but it releases the outcome of that work willingly (and rightfully) to God. It requires letting go of needing to know the when and why of it all. It requires a daily choice to trust in His plan, His process, and His promises.

The second option is the more frightening one, true, but it is also the more exciting one, the more rewarding one. It is the one that allows me to focus on the present, letting both the past and future exist in a bit of a haze. It is the one that leads to more than I could have planned or even dreamed for myself. It is the one that leads to a deeper love and trust in God. It is the one that will allow me to impact more lives than just my own.

It is the option I am choosing with all its haze and promise.

Is The New Year Really a Blank Page?

Scrolling through social media, I’ve seen a lot of “today is a blank page” type of messages for the new year. They are meant to be encouraging, inspiring us to make those changes that have been on our minds the last few days, weeks, months even.  

The promise of a new beginning, a fresh start without the bad stuff sounds wonderful, freeing perhaps. I understand the appeal, I really do, but I don’t necessarily want to begin this year on a blank page. 

The first half of last year, quite honestly, was one of the toughest times of my life. In many ways, it was even harder than the previous year because dealing with the previous year’s grief left me emotionally and mentally exhausted. Things normally handled with reason and optimism, knocked me down, and it took me far longer to get up than it ever had. For a couple months, it seemed I had set up residency deep in the valley. 

Why would I want to take that into a new day let alone a new year?  

I see the temptation of wiping away the bad - there was real pain this year I wouldn’t want to repeat, but out of that, I grew so much and in areas I didn’t even know needed pruning or growth. 

I learned to let go of expectations which only led to disappointment and frustration. I let go of a few dreams (and a couple people) to make room for new ones. I learned when I get knocked down, I need to dig deep - dig deep into God’s Word, dig deep into His promises, not mine, dig deep into the community He has provided.  

I learned the difference between simply ignoring fears and really letting go of them, the difference between leaning on God and really leaning into Him, the difference between talking to God and really talking with Him.  

So, even though there were a few months occupied with struggle, the year will not be defined by it; instead, it will be defined by the growth and the lessons that came out of the struggle, through it, in the depths of it. And those lessons will be the first few sentences in this next chapter. There was a sowing in the struggle, and I believe there will be more growth to come, more insight to be harvested - growth and insight that cannot come from a totally blank page. 

So, are there new opportunities ahead? Every day. But a completely clean slate? Not quite.