Tuesday, July 18, 2006


I was out on the town during a recent “girls night out,” and, in the car, I found myself saying, “Do you every feel like your headlights aren’t on?” We were sitting at a stoplight, and the beams of the headlights directly across the intersection were glaring right into my eyes. They seemed so bright, and for a moment, I was surprised that everyone else’s headlights were working at such a better capacity than ours.

The reality of the situation was that our headlights were working just fine, and they were probably just as bright as everyone else’s—it’s just that I was seeing ours from behind, and not head on. Kind of like a flashlight—it seems a lot brighter when someone points it right in your face rather than pointing the light away from you to illuminate your surroundings.

Sometimes I blind myself by staring down everyone else’s “headlights,” or the direction they seem to have in their lives. Have you ever noticed the times when it seems like everyone in the world has it made, and we are the only ones fraught to figure out the pieces of life—tossing around the questions of family, career, education, relationships. How often do we begin to panic when we steal a glance dead on into the lives of others, thinking we’re the only ones who don’t have everything “figured out” yet? Flustered and unsettled, we scurry about thinking our lights just aren’t bright enough. Maybe I’m the only one, but I have been guilty of double-checking to see if my “headlights” are working.

I would be lying to say I didn’t want to know what is ahead of me. Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I like to know what to expect. It sure does make this whole “trusting in God” thing interesting! As soon as I think I know where I’m headed, a sharp curve comes that I couldn’t have seen, even with the high-beams on. The beauty of it all is that even with the limited visibility and sharp turns, there is such a peace that comes with following God. And the destinations he takes me to are more wonderful than anyplace I could have directed myself to (believe me, I’ve tried). The light that God shines on my path is just for me—no matter how bright or dim it looks to anyone else—it is just enough to illuminate the path HE has for me… Much more, and I may go wondering down other paths. God knows I’ve done that before. It is a path of trust, and one we can only walk if we shed our panicked attachment to the high-beams.

1 comment:

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