"I don't get it," I said. "Move forward...where am I headed? You haven't told me the plan. How far do I go? Where am I going to end up? How long is this going to take? How will I know I've arrived? Can't you give me more information"? My level of anxiety was growing with the intensity of a rumbling volcano, and rebellion threatened to terminate my trust with increasingly irrepressible force.
God just smiled while He waited for me to breathe. There would be no forcing me to go anywhere or do anything, but He knew my time here in this place was done...the place where I'd spent so much time and energy, and felt an incredible amount of pain; where I'd learned some of life's harshest, most breathtaking lessons, and felt a bounteous shower of heavenly blessings revive my shriveling spirit. I'd experienced a devastating demolition, and cried rivers of tears, as I sorted through the rubble; then together with God, I'd built something incredibly beautiful. And now He was asking me to leave. "Why?" I asked as I tried desperately to hide my anger and disappointment. "If you knew I would leave...why all the sorting, sifting and rebuilding? Why couldn't you just let me leave the whole stupid mess behind and start from scratch? I could have been done by now. Moved on. Such a waste." I couldn't even look at Him. I turned away and considered running as hot tears streamed down my crimson colored cheeks, but I learned long ago you can't run from God.
Once again, He smiled and gently took my hand in His. "It was not a waste dear. No more a waste than the experience of a baby chick pecking it's way out of an egg or a butterfly struggling to escape the confines of a cocoon. It was the only way I could ensure you gained the strength you'll need for what lies ahead. To allow you to walk away would surely have been easy and less painful; but it would have left you weak, and susceptible to a sure demise in the face of difficulties yet to come." Like the air escaping from a balloon, my anger began to dissipate. As I turned and looked straight into God's eyes I knew that He was right. Overwhelming feelings of humility and gratitude washed over me as I was reminded just how much He must love me.
"Moving forward," He said, "does not require letting go of the memories. They are enmeshed in your soul, now a part of you forever. They serve as reminders, as symbols, of where you've been, and how far you've progressed; eternal markers of growth like the rings found hidden deep inside of the trunk of a tree. Embrace them, and do not try to suppress them when they suddenly surface as though beckoned from deep within your hidden past. They serve as reminders that experiences, sometimes harsh and ugly, propel you from the prison-like plateau of apathy."
So I'm at peace with moving forward; embracing the memories of my past while choosing to be present in this stretch of my journey, consciously placing my feet in the footprints of God as He leads me on my path to eternity. And I'm grateful, that He chooses never to leave me to make it on my own.
