"This, or
that?"
I scratch my head.
All of my reasons,
so carefully formed
Still crumble into
uncertainty.
How can I be sure?
I throw up my hands
- it's too hard!
Why can't You write
it on a wall?
Send an angel?
Give me a sign?
Why are You silent?
As I stand,
hesitating,
Trembling at a fork
in the road,
I wonder why You
always ask me to wait.
But maybe -
Just maybe - it's not about the answer.
What if -
It's about the
process?
Giving a deep desire
to God
Over
And over
And over again.
Watching Him change
my thinking,
Bringing my wavering
will
Into harmony with
His own.
Solid and sure.
Discovering a part
of me I didn't know existed.
Good, or bad.
Developing it, or
rooting it out.
Becoming a stronger
person.
Reveling in the
nearness of my God,
His goodness,
His unutterable
love,
His intense interest
in my life.
The answer fades in
importance.
Eventually, it will
come;
That is not my
concern.
I lose so much when,
Obsessed with the
destination,
I do not throw myself whole-heartedly into the journey.