"So, Now What?"

     I am at a point in my life where I’m standing at the proverbial precipice of the unknown; scared to death to look forward, down or even by my side, so I look back at how far I’ve come. I can vividly see the valleys, plains, hills, terrains, and mountains that I’ve long since walked. Some of the events I remember with such fond memories; but many other ones I still shudder with the deep knowledge of fear that I had most definitely have been protected while I walked “through the valley of the shadow of death.”

     But I did fear the evil; I’ll admit it. I suppose I should have been more valiant, courageous, faithful and appreciative. But I was terrified. Utterly paralyzed with panic of the darkness that surrounded me; I still don’t even know how I made it through them as intact as I am. Though I have many battle scars, most have healed better than I ever imagined they could. It was as if I was being tested or forged like steel like in the story of the fiery furnace of God.  And I didn’t like it; not one bit as Dr. Seuss would so eloquently put it.

     All I’ve ever wanted was a real family to belong to. I wanted to take care of them in a nice, cozy home with children laughing while playing around the freshly laundered clothes that blew in a nice breeze on the clothesline in our backyard. And I wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I desired to earn enough money writing to help support my family so my husband wouldn’t have to toil long hours away from home so we could raise our children together. I wanted an idyllic family life devoid of any problems, illnesses, or hardships. Insert sound effect of loud screeching of a needle being ripped across a thirty-three vinyl record here.

     I’ve long since learned that God has an odd sense of humor when it comes to our wants and needs; what He believes we need is often vastly different than what we deem them to be. And when things hit the fan, as they too often do in my life, I talk to Him about it. Many may call it praying, but it’s actually a real, gritty and probably too casual conversation that I have with Him. I’m sure that when I see Him, there will be some ‘splaining to do on my part. But what can I say? He’s my dad, so I must get my sense of humor from His side, no? I imagine Him smiling at my temper tantrums thinking, “Dear child o’mine if you only knew.” But I thank God I didn’t know what would happen beforehand. Somehow, some way, a miracle happens to me. Every day I wake up thinking, well, I didn’t die in my sleep, let’s do it. Other times I’m saved from the fiery pits of what I consider hell on earth. I find my credit card haphazardly stuffed in a receipt, deep in the recesses of my purse. Or my brakes didn’t go out on me while traveling at the speed of 70 miles per hour; they waited until I was at a stop sign before all four blew out after being tampered with. Sometimes it’s the little things, you know?

     As I’ve traveled throughout my life I’ve fallen down, been distracted, helped others, and tripped over ant hills, but I’ve managed to cover a lot of ground. They’re called life experiences. I’ve met a lot of friends I’ve otherwise wouldn’t have had the pleasure of knowing had I not ventured down certain roads. I have also encountered numerous wolves, but they were chased off before much damaged was inflicted upon me. I have meandered off the path to discover something new to bring with me when I finally found my way back on the trail I was traveling on. The offshoots weren’t always deliberate, nor were they always undesirable or wantonly devious. Sometimes I was impressed to go somewhere to help someone who was waiting for me to find them and bring them along with me for a while. And when they had to leave me to continue onward on their journey, I never forgot what I learned from them. I still miss them; well, I still miss most of them.

     So, here I stand, but not at a crossroad where I’ve been many times before and could choose which way to venture next. Now that I’ve experienced much and have been sufficiently strengthened I’m being nudged to deepen my convictions. Do I take a leap of faith, knowing that I will either spread my wings to learn to fly or that I will be caught in the arms of an angel to be carried across the deep chasm of the scary unknown? Or do I stand still, too frightened to move for fear of failure? What to do, what to do?

     Thankfully, I have been blessed with many very good, loving and intelligent people in my life that I call friends. They listen to me rant at all hours of the day and night, giving me comfort during heartbreaks or make me laugh until I snort while making my sides ache. They repeatedly tell me that I’m strong. My friends also tell me that I’m remarkably intelligent. I’m also apprised that I’m gracious and kind. But I know me a lot better than they do, and sometimes I am weak.  More often than not, I do stupid things that I should know not to do. And much to my chagrin, I can be cruel when I’m hurt or angry. Luckily, I am not prideful, at least not too much, because when I have wronged another I offer a sincere apology and try to rectify the damage I’ve done.

     During one conversation with a dear friend an analogy (that’s how God speaks to me) came to my mind. As I frequently do, I had to interrupt my friend with a special news bulletin. She cordially stopped speaking to listen to me, again. I quickly explain, something just occurred to me. What if I’m flailing about in water like a drowning person panicking for her life? I’m thinking, this is it, I’m dead. I can’t reach the shore; I’m too tired to swim any longer. The waves are too strong, too high, and too scary for me. And then I hear this very still and quiet voice whisper, “Stand up, little one.” No one is there, but I put my feet down anyway. I can stand. The waves wash over my shoulders, but they’re not splashing in my face any longer. I instantly think seriously? It was all an illusion? I’m not drowning? Another thought (voice or whatever) came to me that said “While you were learning to swim you also grew taller, wiser and stronger. What would have been over your head years ago is only at your shoulders now.” The panic subsided and I gave thanks. The idyllic life I have sought after my entire sojourn has been replaced with a more enriched and beautiful one that I would never have had the courage to live if I wasn’t shoved (thanks a lot) into it. I’ve soared over mountains, dived into deep crevices and walked over tough terrains I wouldn’t ever had the pleasure of experiencing because of fear. But I never soared, dove, or walked alone.

     So, here I am standing at this place of great despair, or what may very well be a daring adventure, kudos to my hero, Helen Keller. I look back over my shoulders again to see how far that I’ve traveled and I smile. I look from side to side and I see a multitude of friends encouraging me with their own smiles. I look down and think, “Well, what’s the worst thing that could happen to me?” And then I look up and say, “Okay, I’m ready to fly ~ So, now what?”