Light

One summer when I was in college, I had a friend who was from Texas. He played football for his Texas college team and had a warm, Texas-size heart. 

We knew each other because our fathers were Army officers at the time stationed at the same Post. When we went to our respective homes for summer break, we met and became friends. I really enjoyed hanging out with him -- he seemed to make everything fun.

One evening we were walking to the Post movie theater and decided to take a short-cut though a small forest. There was a lot of moonlight that night, but as we moved through the thick of the trees he took my hand as if to guide me, and then he told me, "Only step where the light is -- you don't know what the dark places are."

Neither of us realized the life wisdom he was imparting to me in that moment. His instruction that night to step with care, to only move forward with the sure-footedness that came with clearly seeing the illuminated places ahead of me, has often been my inward counsel as I have tried to navigate my way through what seemed to be the "forests" of my life.

Of course, the concept of light for one's steps isn't new, much has been written and said about the topic. The Bible talks about the ancient practice of using foot lamps to light a path with each step, and a well-worn book of mine is Stormie Ormartian's, "Just Enough Light for the Step I'm On." My friend's advice, however, feels subtly different to me, because it is not so much about what the light is going to do, but more about how I am to move in relation to the light.
 
That summer night in my desire to keep up with his stride, it was very tempting to just go ahead and step in the dark places even though I knew he was right (one of them could have been a hole!). I wanted to move faster -- it slowed me down to look for the light first. I had to resist my impulse and exercise some discipline.

I think this restraint is hard to come by in our own life's journeys: to be patient when we want to move ahead, to wait for something to illuminate where we're going -- that next insight, new knowledge, or the counsel that is to come our way. We may feel pressure from people around us to take a step of action quickly (or perhaps internally we think we ought to be doing something more to move forward). It might even be hard for us to admit that we can't see the next step.

But it isn't good for us, and it's not good for our situation, to move ahead blindly -- to step where it's dark. We need to believe that it is wisdom to only operate in that clear vison light can bring.

There's a confidence that comes from stepping where we can see. I recognize that feeling. I recognize the absence of it too -- the anxiety, the sense of blindness or confusion, the insecurity of not knowing if that darkness holds solid ground. I myself have come to believe in the importance of this principle of moving in the light and in resisting the temptation to behave to the contrary.

We need to pause until the light comes -- for come it will. In the quiet waiting, in the searching, in the praying, it comes.

I want to encourage you today to understand the truth in this. When you can't quite see what to do next, when that step is in darkness, but you're feeling some sense of urgency to move ahead anyway -- stop for a moment, take a deep breath, and be still.

Then, for whatever amount of time you need -- unapologetically -- wait for the light.

Here's to your finding light for every step!

Kay
www.confidentconflict.com