Driving up a mountain, snow swirling around and tire marks fading into white, my daughter calls to say they were slow going; but, making it up the mountain. Unsure how far the driver would go, just knowing the only way to go was through.
We’re not really snow people. It’s pretty. But snow has a way of setting us in, locking us down.
We overreact, we anticipate cabin fever type crazy.
And then we are okay. We watch, listen to the peaceful falling, the splendid silence. We embrace the sedentary.
So, when I got the text with this photo, I panicked. Even more when my daughter added, ” we can’t really see where we’re going.”
Eventually, they made it. She, athletic and determined attempted to ski, but soon realized dressing in cute clothes and sipping coffee was just fine. Watching snow fall.
Not seeing a way forward is scary.
Do you keep moving forward?
Turn around and go back to the place you know?
Do nothing? Do something? Wait it out?
I’ve been thinking about hearing God, sensing His will.
Some things I’m waiting to know.
Some questions without answers, pressure I can’t relieve.
So I quiet my mind, my ranting, my incessant anxious rolling over in mind of what if, what if not.
I get quiet, because I realize God is just ahead in the clearing, around the corner, at the brink of a new day.
I get close, closer still.
Quiet enough to hear, to see.
God has much to say to us.
Imagine drifting so far or being so focused on the unseen, the unforeseeable we miss His voice. Stay close and quiet enough to hear Him, just ahead in the clearing.