Slowly, ever so slowly, I lift my foot then quickly place it back down. I try again. I succeed. I then lift my other foot to follow. It is heavier than the first. I wait. I pray. I pick up my bible. I listen. My foot lifts and moves forward. The process repeats.
Why does God sometimes allow us to stand still not knowing when the next step will come? Why do some steps have to hurt, while others feel as though you’re gliding?
Last week, I had two dreams. I’m not saying they were prophetic in nature, but they certainly reflected inner turmoil over a decision I have been struggling with. The first dream my youngest and I arrived somewhere. It felt familiar as a home would feel. Someone approached us and said, “Welcome home.” Then this person looked at me with distant eyes and walked away. We sat. Uneasiness coursed through me as I watched everyone around us. Nothing felt right.
The second dream occurred the very next evening. I was in a different place. I was brought to a medical chair. Someone approached me and began examining my arms. She tapped on my veins and then gently looked into my eyes and said, “You’ve been trying to do this all on your own, haven’t you?” She then started an IV and hooked me up to some fluids. “Just sit here for a couple hours and you’ll be better,” she said. When it was over I was guided to an unfamiliar auditorium and sat next to my family and peace washed over me.
Sometimes the familiar and easy is not what we’re supposed to choose. Sometimes we are called to do what doesn’t make sense to ourselves or to others. Although scary, we must close our eyes and cling to the One who is always there patiently and lovingly guiding toward the living water.