This morning, Dakota and I rooted around for a ball. We walked here and there, searching high and low. We hadn’t had a chance to clean up all the downed limbs and twigs from Saturday’s windstorm. That made it more challenging. The dearth of daylight at 5:00 a.m. was a huge detriment. The ball hid well. Olly olly oxen free! I wanted to yell. I did find one inside, however, and frolicking ensued. Well, on Dakota’s part. I trudged up and down the driveway, breathing in the cold, clear air. It felt great to be outside and dry for a few minutes.
I put Dakota inside and headed out.
This morning, I ran. I haven’t run in a while because I was trying something new. It’s not really working. I need running. I feel it like an amputee feels her missing leg. I mean, it’s worked in the sense that I feel better and I’m eating less carbs. It’s not working in the sense that I’m not as fit as I’d like to be, but it’s a jumping off place. More on that later.
So…running. The moon shone down from a mackerel sky with a silvery glow that lit up all the surrounding clouds. It hung there, nearly full and enormous, eclipsing all but the brightest stars. It stayed on my left as I ran. Two of the streetlights were out along the main drag. I walked during that stretch, as the darkness was nearly total. I should have brought a flashlight, I suppose, but I didn’t anticipate needing one.
I noticed something I’ve mentioned before. As cars passed me, I used their headlights to guide my steps. Sure, they only stayed within vision for a half minute. But it was enough to get me up the road. Then another car would come along. Their lights helped me, too. The cumulative effect of the mobile lights allowed me to see where I needed to go.
It got me thinking about how the light of other believers helps us. Someone will have a word of encouragement, or a correction and that propels us forward. Someone else will cause us to remember a worship song or a Bible verse. We take another step or two, tentative, but progress.
With the gleam of temporary radiance, I moved along at a good clip, despite the lack of constant light. I reached the top of the street. An overhead streetlight led me to the next area. I didn’t need the passing cars’ brilliance anymore.
We all have seasons where we simply have no direction. We wander in the dark until a helpful lamp appears. We can’t see the destination just yet. But the light, the extra illumination, is most welcome. Then we can continue on the path set before us. We may even be able to run.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take. – Proverbs 3:5-6