And I don't know where this pressure to feel as if I need to get it right comes from. It has snuck up on me and clasped on tight, making every decision feel looming, beastly and daunting. I believe that each of our hearts is longing for Truth, and with each passing day, with each interaction with Nature and Beauty and our brothers and sisters and neighbors, our focus is adjusted, even just a little bit. In the turning of the sun and the laughing of a baby, in gathering around with the people we love, joining hands to pause and appreciate the miracle that is food on the table, receiving the forgiveness of a friend while your eyes fill with tears, in the patience of the father as his child learns to walk; in all of these moments a layer is peeled off and the light comes in a little brighter.
Life is not a series of yes or no answers. It is not a list to check off, hoops to jump through. There are no ladders to climb, only busy city highways that roll into twisting country paths, leading to the water. There are very few formulas to apply to those things which are most important [how do I fall in Love, heal a broken heart, fix a friend's pain, numb the throb of longing for that which I cannot let go of]. Answers are not successfully found in five steps that fit into an acronym of a catchy word. RATHER. Much like digging for the story in a line of poetry - how describing a house can tell you the shape of my heart, how I can be a rose and he the traveller, winter is really a time of wrestling and summer is enlightenment from a friend, and the world was created in seven days - in time and reflection, looking back on all of the steps I've taken and the patches of road on which I crawled, I see how far I've come.
Each Choice shouldn't be a daunting beast, rather an opportunity to write another song, to learn something and in turn, encourage a friend. Each question doesn't demand an answer, rather a rabbit hole of more questions. And if these road blocks lead you to pray - as for me, I am face down in the mud - may your cries and groans be an answer to our invitation to converse with a God who writes in mystery, thrives on the impossible, believes in our crippled posture, delights in our limitations and awaits our hands, reaching, empty, shaking, towards Him.