Just when I think I know where I’m going, I seem to stumble. Life is funny that way. And by funny, I don’t mean hilarious. I mean uncomfortably, pit-in-your-stomach, “Oh shit, I didn’t see this coming…” funny. And it’s hardly ever a good thing.
I was going along thinking I was finally making hard but necessary decisions about where my life was headed, and instead of just thinking about them, I was finally making things happen. I was taking charge of my life again. I made resolutions and followed them. I was the epitome of forward motion. And then last night, suddenly, I got hit with some news that I’d been thinking maybe, just maybe, wouldn’t come. And I thought to myself, “Oh God…I’ve missed a step.” Because that’s what it felt like- going down the stairs, thinking I was at the bottom, and then plunging my foot into empty space instead of solid ground. And then the feelings of confusion and falling settled in. And the unavoidable hurt.
After the initial disorientation of thinking I was already at the bottom, I took inventory of my wounds…I surveyed the extent of the injuries. It wasn’t pretty. This was the third blow in seven days. And it was a particularly painful one. I couldn’t help but ask, “What’s next?” But it doesn’t really matter what’s next. Life hits us with stuff. And a lot of the time it feels like we can’t handle it. But that’s the unshakable reality of it. I just need to keep my eyes open from now on and focus on the road in front of me, instead of naively treading on blind faith and not watching where my footsteps fall.