Crossroads

It seems I am very good at praying thy will be done…except in this area or that situation. I can’t quite come to the place where in every choice, at every crossroad, my question is what does God want for me. Which option is more likely to take me closer to where God wants me to go?

I don’t believe God really cares what I have for dinner tonight, so even when I say every choice, I obviously don’t mean it. God gave me a mind for a reason. He’d like me to use it. I do have the capability of making some choices for myself, some things just don’t matter on the eternal level. God doesn’t care what deodorant I use, so I feel perfectly within His will to simply pick the one I like to wear. I don’t believe God wants to micromanage my life, or anyone else’s.

I used to be the chief photographer and photo editor of the Pine Log. In that position I hired photographers to work for me and gave them assignments. Each had his or her own areas of excellence, their own artistic eye and talent. I often tried to assign shoots based on who was better to shoot that particular subject or style. If someone had questions about how to do an assignment I would answer them, and I always tried to give a general this is what we need kind of guideline. Then I allowed the photographer shoot how they wanted. I didn’t say only shoot from this angle. Or use this shutter speed. I didn’t micromanage. Sometimes that meant I saw an unexpected result, and sometimes that unexpected result amazed me.

I think God is sometimes like I was as a photo editor. He gave me certain gifts and attributes that I can use to accomplish His will, the next assignment, the next right thing. But how I go about it, sometimes there is some leeway to do something the way that most suits me. But sometimes I know the assignment calls for a two-column horizontal face-on shot, and the lighting demands a certain shutter speed to attain that, and there is little to no room to put my own flair into doing what my editor wants.

But life isn’t a photo assignment. And I don’t always know exactly how the editor has the layout planned. What image is needed from this day in my life. Which shots I am free to choose to make on my own and in my own style and which ones I need to call and get clear-cut directions on what and how. Those are the scary places for me. Choices I want to make for myself, but can’t because I don’t know which is going to get me where I need to be, where I want to be. But choices I am too impatient with to wait for clear guidance from my editor.

I feel I am standing at a crossroads in the middle of nowhere, clueless as to where I am now or which direction to choose. I am not entirely sure if this is a choice I should make, or if I need to wait for a text from my editor to tell me which road to take. I jumped from a crashing plane of chaos, confusion and manipulation and landed right square in the middle of this back-country four-way.

One direction I wanted to try, but I know that it’s the wrong road. And someone put a great big road closed sign in front of it. I am grateful for that. Knowing saves heartache, and for more people than just myself. So the road to my left is closed. Then there’s the road in front of me, familiar and comfortable and safe. Should I take it? Should I go in that direction? But the next path to the right, the third road, offers much of the same country to drive through as the road I am so comfortable on. But a little less safe. And a little less of the beauty and joy and inspiration that fills my soul as I travel. I believe the journey is more important than the destination, and there’s just some landscape I prefer over others to drive by. Then there’s the fourth road, which I know nothing about. The great unknown. Could be wonderful. Could be hell. Could be the path I’ve always dreamed I could travel on, or it might be the road to loneliness and despair. The signs are missing, and I can’t see past the first turn to get a look at what exactly I’d be traveling through.

And for some reason that I can’t quite put my finger on, I’m afraid to ask my editor which road I need to take. And I don’t feel capable of making the decision on my own with the information I have. And I’m afraid that if I don’t pick a direction and start moving down a road, any road, if I just stand there in the middle of the crossroads trying to wait for a clear indication of which way to go, I’m going to get hit by a truck. I’m afraid to stay where I am, to not move, and I am afraid to pick one of the three roads that aren’t closed and start the next leg of my journey. It all boils down to the same essence. I am afraid.