Like a Foghorn in the Dark

I've been there. Maybe you've been there too. Maybe you're there now: a point in your life where you have no idea where you're going or what you're supposed to be doing. We pray for direction in life. We pray, "God, tell me what you want. Show me where you want me to go. Just tell me!" We pray for something like the Israelites had - obvious direction in the form of pillars of fire or cloud.


I experienced and continue to experience this since leaving for college. I wanted to be so very sure of where God wanted me to go. I actually had anxiety over "getting it wrong" (as if God would punish me for not following Him "right"). I prayed but felt no sure direction of where I was supposed to go. So, as I waited, opportunities passed me by and God shut doors. I went to a junior college I swore I'd never go to. *Surprisingly*, God grew and stretched me there. Then came the time to transfer. Again I prayed and this time God made it obviously clear where He wanted me to go. So, I went. I didn't know what my purpose was for going there, but it was enough for me to know that I was going where I was meant to be. Upon graduating I faced the issue of still not knowing why I went to the university that I did. What was the great purpose? Even more muddle-some, I didn't know what to do with my life after graduating. So, I moved home, got a job to pay the bills, and have been figuring it out ever since.

I'm learning that in the process of not knowing what to do, God still directs me. He gently moves me where He will as I stay in communication, desperately returning to Him because - to be frankly honest - what I call a "lack of direction" drives me up the wall. We want purpose in our lives. Rather, we want to know what we're supposed to do. Once, in sharing my frustration with a friend, he responded that he had another friend like me - not sure of direction or purpose, and then he added, "I'm the kind of person who would make up my own direction if I didn't have any, though. I would go mad without any direction."
Why do we have such a hard time sitting still?


So many times in our lives, we get upset when we don't know what we're supposed to be doing or don't know where we're supposed to be going. We feel like we're paddling in the dark on an ocean surrounded by fog, desperately listening for the sound of the lighthouse horn.


Maybe that's not such a bad thing.

We forget that while the Israelites had pillars to lead them by day and night - they still didn't know where they were going the next day.

Uncertainty keeps us from doing things in our own power and instead forces us to rely on God. The reason? There is no other option. Either we are completely with God, or we can walk away and say, "forget it." And if we say that we want to be with God, then we struggle through in communication with Him. The blessing is this: instead of working to do something great for God - as if we could ever earn His blessings, favor, or love that we so desperately and deeply want to be told, "you deserve this" - we instead work with Him. The focus shifts from ourselves to Him. It becomes about the work HE is doing as He blesses us in the opportunity to be used by Him. It's almost like the wonderful invitation we all craved as children from our best friends, "Do you want to come play?"
In being never able to work on our own, we are stripped from the ability to work in our own power. Thus, we are never able to earn love. It is simply given to us. Even the opportunity to be used by God to bless a dying world around us is an expression of unmerited mercy and grace.


Maybe we don't need to know what's going to happen tomorrow or where we're going anyway - as if we could ever really know that. Maybe it's enough for us to follow that pillar of fire, that could of lighting, to listen for that metaphorical sound of the lighthouse in the foggy night - and to simply follow Him one day at a time, one step at a time, one moment by moment...not really sure of where we're going, but absolutely sure that we're with Him wherever we go.


That's what relationship is, after all.