Just Keep Walking (On Letting Go)

"Once again the star appeared to them, guiding them to Bethlehem. It went ahead of them and stopped over the place where the Child was. When they saw the star, they were filled with joy "Matthew 2:9

Father God,

The star had gone before them, leading them to a place unknown. But they followed because they had hope for where they were going. They had hope for what awaited them at the end.

"Once again the star appeared to them" --this seems like the star had gone away, been hidden, disappeared from their sight.

Lord, I know that feeling. The feeling that 'ok God, I've been following this [insert guide (hope, star, dream, passion, etc.)] in this direction, I'm not even sure exactly where I'm going, but I know what awaits me. But my guide has disappeared. What the crap do I do now?! My destination location is vague. I don't know how far it is, how close I am, or how to get there at all! The guide I had, my GPS just went off the radar! It's dark, it's cold, and I'm all alone! In the middle of the desert (Mark 1:12-13) and I'm CLUELESS!

And yet, the only thing I hear in response is 'Keep walking."

REALLY?! I'm numb from the cold, dry from the heat. I started this journey with a grand vision from You (though, to be honest, I'm starting to doubt it myself) and that vision showed me a path to follow, something went before me as a guide. But now the path is not clear, my guide is gone, I'm alone and I can't feel You and the vision that was once so clear is now but a misty remembrance, like a dream I'm trying to recall after I awake. But I can't see or remember it clearly, so now what? Now I whine and complain and become bitter and jealous, seeing evil-doers prosper, while I, who have been so faithful and pure (at least in my eyes), suffer needlessly and reap very little reward.

WHAT IS THIS JANK?!

I am hurt and lonely, being abandoned and so I retreat, isolating myself to be safe from more hurt.

I become cold, hard, gray and dull like stone. I don't recognize myself. I've become so numb that nothing holds meaning any more. I would have no problem compromising most of my values-especially if it brought me some sort of pleasure.

But You will not even allow me that ounce of, albeit temporary, pleasure in this time of darkness. All I receive in was this response "Keep walking.”

I have every sad and pathetic excuse: "I'm tired, I don't know where I'm going, I don't know if I'm even going in the right direction and YOU'RE not helping!" All this, then it becomes more of an uphill battle More mountain climbing, less like a carved pathway. Having to take careful steps, maintaining balance, trusting my instincts, having to feel my way to each sturdy place. All of this in the dark, mind You! But I have been led in this direction and like a cross country race, the momentum and knowledge that I HAVE to finish, carry me when my heavy feet no longer can.

                  And as I'm climbing, my hands have a hard time getting hold of anything. I realize the reason for this is because in one hand I grasp a string, tied to a weight of jealousy and the bird of bitterness is perched upon it. In my other hand are the ashes of something that became nothing long ago. I know that I need to let go of both. I know I can't go on unless I do, but I've held on to them for so long, I feel unsafe if I let go. I will have to retrain myself, retrain my hands how to feel without something in their grasp. But I know I CAN'T go on if I do not let go. The weight is easier to let go of, because its' affect is very obvious. I see and feel how much it affects my movements. However, the ashes are much harder to release. They have been with me for a great portion of this journey. They had started off as something broken but beautiful. The broken pieces were burnt and became nothing. But I picked them up, perhaps hoping, in a naive way, to make them whole again. Since that time I have attempted to let some of the ashes fall from my grasp, a little at a time. Some simply slipped through my fingers. But there is still a small amount that I have a death grip on. y hand hurts from clenching so tightly, and I only now realize it. It takes a while, but I finally unclench my fist to look at the ashes. I suppose in my mind I imagined that I could one day make this something whole. But as I now look at these ashes, I finally realize that this is not something any more. I am holding on to nothing that has been long gone for some time. The wind blows and scatters some of the ashes and carries other pieces away, but still a small amount is left in my hand. I study it closely, trying to picture the something this nothing once was, but I cannot. With tears in my eyes and tightness in my chest I blow the remaining ashes out of my hand. My hand aches and I see where the black of the ashes was embedded into the lines and crevices of my hand. I see that the marks it left will be with me, to some degree, forever. and I know that I will never be able to forget the something. But I am free to move forward now. Both hands free and I continue to climb on. And as I clear the top, I find that dawn is breaking. The night is ending. My star appears dimly on the horizon, and though it is not clear how far it will take me or where I will end up, my guide has returned and I am assured that I'm going in the right direction. So I keep walking. Just keep walking...just keep...walking...