I’d been told by many people that change was the only constant in life. I wasn’t sure if i quite identified with that statement. I felt God’s grace was also a constant in my life so i wasn’t sure if i could say with any confidence that i understood “change” to be the only ever-present thread throughout. That being said, it did seem change was rather inevitable no matter how settled i attempted to be. I’d explain it like this: when a person is young, they think its their job to hurry to find a place in society so that they can support a household and participate. As a person ages they figure out, finding a place in society is not a one time job but a lifelong journey that takes effort, maintenance, and sometimes change. Faced with this reality, i found myself in a state of despair. There was never going to be a year where i could sit back and say “okay, now i’ve done it.” I was learning; to be alive was to struggle. Once adulthood was reached, you had two choices in this realm. You could struggle or you could give up your power and let somebody else struggle for you. I knew myself. If there was to be a struggle, i would want to be in the driver’s seat. I did not trust others to navigate life’s twists and turns for me. Secondly, there was only one person i would be relinquishing my power to…handing over the steering wheel, and that was God. It was why i’d never be married. It just wasn’t for me. I was happy for all those out there that could thrive as a help mate and at the same time i knew i wasn’t one of them. As the winter temperatures formed ice crystals atop the paint job on my car, circumstance etched dizzying designs of a frigid nature on my heart. My soul sank deep within my person, shriveled and bruised, hiding from a cruel world. I was unable to enjoy the beauty of the country i had once so loved. I recognized a depression brewing in me, of a degree that i had only experienced once before, after my miscarriage. I knew i had a choice. I could leave things as they were and disappear into the fog. I could drown standing in place watching the suffocating clouds surround and envelope me, or i could stand and start walking to higher ground, to observe the fog in its beauty from a higher elevation where the view was clear. I made a decision to start walking. Who knew how long i’d be walking before i found the next destination this time? I didn’t know what i was walking to or how long it would take to get there, but i knew the direction i was traveling and why. Many people pointed out their perceived errors in my new direction of travel but their comments fell on unbothered ears. I felt that gentle but very present tug on my soul. I felt God calling me in the direction i was moving, and no matter why the next leg of my journey seemed like an ill-advised action on paper, i knew in my heart, it was where i was supposed to be going. When traveling this path i had a peace in my heart that rendered me uninterested in micromanaging all the details at one moment in time. I knew this next thing had been set in my path for me and that it was the direction i was meant to be walking. So i laced up my metaphorical hiking boots and began walking.
