“Things like this don’t just happen,” I ponder.
But they do.
God initiates a conversation. A pointed question is asked.
Without hesitation, I respond from my heart. And the adventure begins…
God calls. I answer.
Step by step, I walk deeper into this calling.
The road isn’t paved. In most places, it’s rocky and rutted, thorny and overgrown. There are roadblocks and detours, to be sure, but there are also soft places worn smooth from the passing of others. Weathered signs left behind from footfalls of wizened sojourners, beckoning me onward. Ever onward.
Sometimes the way is dark and scary. There are damp, foggy mornings where the thickness of air seems nearly suffocating, causing me to gasp with panic. These moments make me hesitant to continue this journey. Until the sun peeks through, calming my fears, urging me to rise and rush toward its warmth.
And all along the way, there are glimpses of Father’s glory.
Signs of life tucked within the dry and barren. Blossoms of beauty among the crags and outcroppings, tenaciously twining their way through briars of doubt. Blooming despite the challenge to remain dormant. Traces of spring nestled in frost and cold, inviting me to believe still. To trust. To hope. Drawing me toward the dawn of resurrection.
Spurring me to travel onward.
Day by day.
Though the temptation to turn back does cross my mind, I never do. Instead, I yield to that persistent tug forward. I lean into the Voice whispering its love songs, no matter how heavy the shadow of darkness threatens.
Even when the path seems obscure, the call to find glory beckons still.
And I am almost surprised to realize the glory I long to find is not my own, but His.
The world would taunt me to believe things like this don’t just happen.
But they do.
And they will again.
Just you wait and see.