And…Again.

Regroup, redirect, refocus, re-visualize.

Reframe.

This thing. It happens.

That means the journey is headed this way. I frame the horizon and take my brush and paint the rest of the path beyond the reaches of my vision. This is how it is, this is what will be.

But then, that thing. It happens.

It totally obliterates my sadly lacking artistic expression. My frame is reduced to pitiful pieces. My painting is completely unrecognizable.

So, what do I do? I regroup, redirect, refocus, and re-visualize.

Reframe. Different direction, different frame, different paint color. And I paint the rest of the path again. Ah, here we go. This is how it is, and this is what will be.

But you guessed it… everything changes again. And my frame is in pieces again. And my childish painting is unrecognizable again, even to me.

I keep thinking that this, or that, or that other thing is the new reality, the way things are, the new route, the updated way. Over the years “the way” has been hope filled and colorful, dark and hopeless, or somewhere in between. Each unforeseen change in direction is the forging of a new path. But if I put all the paths together, it’s a mind-blowing zigzagging new definition of crazy. Ribbons of a journey all tangled up together. The ribbons of a journey that is not mine, yet I still find myself intertwined amid the chaos. And I wonder why I’m breathless and exhausted. Relentlessly chasing down every path that isn’t for my footsteps.

The hard truth? This process could repeat to infinity… if.

If I allow it to. If I choose to follow what I see, which is limited greatly. Limited because though I try so hard, it is not possible to get into another’s mind and see what they see. Yet, I try anyway. I keep trying to make something work that is irrevocably flawed.

In the cacophony of confusion and frustration, in the longing to be free, in the heart wrenching gap between what I should do and what I end up doing, I know I can choose to stop and listen.  When I do that, I hear the undeniable silent voice that speaks to the deepest part of my soul, and I work to follow the sound and allow it to lead me.

Look – over here. See this? Master artistry at work, color and light and love and hope and compassion. See the beauty? This is My plan. And over here – hidden by the brilliant light? These are the intricately connected paths that you don’t see because they are Mine.
You, my dear one, are continually chasing what you want to know so that you can rest in the knowledge. But this kind of knowledge is a moving target, ever changing. Choose instead to know Me more and rest in Me. I’ll take care of everything else. I love You.

Progress is painstakingly slow, but my God knows every facet of the mess that is me and loves me anyway.  He continually encourages, and He shows me the way, again and again.  I am a willing student, and I will continue to allow Him to complete His work in me.

I have set the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken. You make known to me the path of life; in Your presence there is fullness of joy; at Your right hand are pleasures forevermore. Ps 16:8, 11