Into the Unknown

It’s this space in the middle that’s hard for me. This weird, undefinable moment in time where you know things will never be like they were before, but you also aren’t sure what they will be like ahead. You can clearly see the before, but the after on the horizon is hazy, and the windshield is foggy — you’re in the curve, and it’s slow and winding and full of uncertainty.

I’ve been reading this book called Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor. I’m only a few chapters in, but the gist so far is that we often do whatever we can to avoid the dark — we flip on the light or close our eyes and hurry through. But then we miss the chance to look around.

We’re in the dark now friends, for a million different reasons. And I’m trying hard to let my eyes adjust, to shift my gaze, to see things from a different perspective, willing to find the beauty here. Constantly reminding myself of what is true — stubbornly refusing to let fear get the best of me.

When the unknown stretches out wildly before us, it feels threatening, not welcoming. You are forced to hold countess possible futures open-handed in your palm, and it’s so easy to dwell on the ones that bring hardship, not joy.

I used to ask God to please just tell me what my life would look like, what the endgame was. Just give me the details, let me know how it happens, and I’ll crush it. I can persevere, I can endure, I can be grateful — as long as I know how it ends. As long as I know when it ends. As long as I know THAT it ends.

It’s this space in the middle that’s hard for me. But I’m hoping I can learn to walk in the dark— I WANT to be content in the darkness, looking around for unexpected joy and allowing myself to be fully present in the moment. Letting tomorrow’s worries wait for tomorrow.

We’re in this together friends. May we help one another navigate this in-between, and everything that comes after. Point out all the amazing things that come out at night, share your night-vision googles if you’ve got them, and show up when someone is too tired to walk alone.