The Unknown

     My heart rose and lodged itself firmly in my throat. Its heavy palpitations shook me to my core. My fingers trembled spastically. The fear I felt was very real, yet entirely baseless. Here I was, walking in a room of unknown size or description. It could have been a golden palace filled with ornate woodwork and tapestries as far as I knew. However, the very real possibility still remained that it was a dangerous trap of a shanty filled with objects of horror and pain. I knew not which it was because of the darkness. A strange, thick darkness which encompassed all that was around me. No cracks in the wall let in the tiniest sliver of illumination to enlighten me to my surroundings. All I knew was that I had to cross this room. I had to travel through. My bearings were completely off. Up and down were sure, but left, right and even forward had become confused. Each painful inch took what felt like forever to cover. It seemed as if, for every successful step I took, there were two that caused pain; a stubbed toe, a twisted ankle, more scrapes and bruises than I could count. The obstacles were not lessening with the passage of time or distance. In fact, the opposite was true. The fear, the darkness, the loneliness was pressing in on me, making me feel so weak and overwhelmed. Panic was a constant companion. Remembering to breathe took concentration, of which I had very little left after my focus on simply moving forward. I began to cry. My vision would have been blurred by the tears if I could have seen anything at all. "Where am I going? Why am I in here? How long until I know?" The thing which scared me the most was the unknown- the suffocating unknown. I begged for an answer or, even better, relief. From deep within the darkness a voice called out to me, "My child. Do not be afraid, for I am with you." I dashed the tears from my eyes and peered into the darkness. "Where? I can't see you!" I asked in desperation.
"I'm right here in front of you. I have been all along."
"Why can't I see you? Why do I feel so alone, here?"
The answer was an admonition, but given so gently, with so much love that I felt no shame, "You haven't looked up." I realized the truth in His words and slowly lifted my head. There before me was a light. Not overwhelmingly bright, but a soft welcoming glow. It did not illuminate every detail around me, but provided me with a fixture point to walk towards. I took a feeble step in its direction. I found myself hesitant still, stuck in my fear from before. Each inch I covered brought confidence and a sureness to my step. The distance in the room began to be covered, yet the light remained slightly ahead of me. It did not matter. I discovered as long as I kept my eyes on the light that the path no longer scared me. It did not matter what was in the room or how long I would be there. The claustrophobia of the unknown had been lifted as long as my focus remained on the light. I heard a noise and glanced toward it. Immediately the room became dark again. My gaze dropped to my feet. I stumbled. A voice called to me, "My child." Again, my head lifted, and there blazed the light.
     They say the joy lies not in the destination but in the journey. While I find that to be true at times, the sheer overwhelming panic of the unknown has bogged me down at others. I have a band that I love called "Anthem Lights." They have just released a new Album entitled "You have my Heart." The third track on that disk was the inspiration for this blog. Named "The Unknown," the chorus sings, "Don't you know that you're right at home in the unknown? I'm already there. I'm already there. Don't you know that you're not alone in the unknown? I'm already there. I'm already there!" The second verse follows up with the lines, "You don't need to know what tomorrow holds when you know the One who holds tomorrow. Understand you're just a man, and trust Me child I have a plan. I am in control and I won't let you go!" This is not a completely new thought to someone who has spent 30 years in Church, but as usual, when presented musically it struck a chord in my heart. It is far too easy to get caught up in our situation or surroundings, when instead, if we keep our eyes focused on the light of God, our path becomes clear.
Psalm 119:105 "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path."

The First Post!

     It’s never the message you wish to see at the end of your favorite TV show. We have grown accustomed to having all manner of inconceivable situations be able to be neatly wrapped up in either 30 minute or 1 hour increments. It could be an in depth plot point or a random unexpected interlude to the ongoing script, but we know that at the end of our viewing period, we will find some level of closure and contentment with how it was concluded. Then, there comes that fateful day, when the writers and creators of your show are either purposely torturing you, or find they are unable to portray in the time allotted a full story line as planned. They find a mid point, wrap up one or two dialog strings, and suddenly, the screen goes to black with white, simple lettering displaying the dreaded promise, “To Be Continued…” Most times, this is accompanied by some sound of discontent emanating from the viewership in the room. In worst case scenarios, whatever object lies closest to the home audience, is at great peril of being thrown- be it remote, cat or small child. “It’s not fair!” we protest. “I can’t wait!” we bemoan. But, no matter the pleading or threatening, we cannot bring about the conclusion we desire any faster.  

    Yet, we can also find hope in those words. It’s not over. Whatever point we have been left with, is not the last. Hero A may in fact be dangling from a precipice of unimaginable heights, but after 3 short months of holding on, we know he will find relief. There’s more. The questions that lie unanswered, the story line we don’t quite understand, the new things just forming- these are not done yet. We have a promise written in bold block lettering assuring us that more is on the way. We just have to trust that the writers of the story know what they are doing, that they have in mind for us something greater than we can comprehend. Their plans would not fit in a timeline that we imposed on them. They have more in mind.

     I find a few similarities between sitcoms and my life. There is me, the main character, my unruly cast of friends and family, and situations I encounter that leave me, wondering, “How did I get here? When will this end? Am I going to like the unexpected twists?” And if I ride it out, I’ll usually see a conclusion or wrap up for any given situation not too far around the corner. Then it happens. I look away for one minute and they pull the rug out from under me. When I look back, all I can see is a dreaded message: “To Be Continued…” “It’s not fair!” I protest. “I can’t wait!” I bemoan. But no matter my pleading or threatening, I cannot bring about the conclusion I desire any faster.

    But the same promise is given to me as to the viewers at home. It’s not over. There’s more. I, too, have a writer and creator for my life and His plans are not my plans. His ways are not my ways. I may want to simply drop from this cliff and have someone catch me out of the air and neatly complete this nail biting part of my journey, but I have to trust that the writer of my story knows what He is doing, that He has in mind for me something greater than I can comprehend. His plans will not fit in my timeline, because He has more in mind.

     Sometimes it can be rough. And yes, sometimes I want to throw small objects and children, but I choose to believe that in the end I will look back and say, “that was so worth it!” The lows may be lower that fathomed, but the highs will also be higher. The big decisions could come easy, or the small choices could be hard. When I know life is going to take a left, I may find it quickly jogging right, but the trick is to trust in the One who can see the credits at the end. 

I'm calling this blog "To Be Continued..." because I'm hoping we can all see some of what's coming for me!