I read these two thoughts everyday right now and will continue to do so until I feel like the ambiguity of our transition quiets itself.
My Lord God I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Not do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that my desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me on the right road though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always,
thought I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
Admittedly, it's a bit dramatic and not quite relevant since we are transitioning (hopefully) to something new and wonderful and adventurous, hopefully not a perilous experience. But there is nothing like turning to the saints who go before you for a little spiritual aide, eh?
We want life to have meaning, we want fulfillment, healing and even ecstasy,
but the human paradox is that we find these things by starting where we are
not where we wish we were...
And because we are human, it is in the realm of the daily and the mundane that we must find our way to God.
In our life of faith, then, as well as in our most intimate relationships with other people,
our task is to transform the high romance of conversion,
the fervor of religious call, into daily commitment.
~Kathleen Norris, sent to me by a dear friend early last week.