By Katie Warner
“Where am I going right now?”
I exhaled, as I fumbled for my phone to switch on Google Maps while attempting to keep my eyes on the road. I don’t like to pride myself on multi-tasking while driving, but to be honest I’m quite good at this; press the home button, locate the app at the very top of the screen, type in my preset destination and I’m rerouted in the right direction. I’m good at this, because I’m forced to do it so often.
I’m notoriously directionally challenged…
It struck me as I blindly followed the directions that my phone gave me in its Australian accent (yes I’m one of those people that changes the voice of their GPS), that this phrase has been a theme for me as of late.
One second I know where I’m going in life and confidently charge forth in that direction, only to continue on blindly for so long until the façade fades and I realize that in all reality I’m lost. I’m recently faced with this reality as I prepare for yet another life transition; moving to a new city, job-searching once again and the continuous discerning of my vocation.
I’m learning that, particularly during my “twenty-something” phase, I’m going to have a lot of these transitions, and I’m starting to get weary of them.
I have a lot of dreams and ideas for where I would like my life to be right now, yet most days I feel so far from achieving them because I can’t figure out which path to take. One moment I have excitement for the unknown and thirst for a new adventure, but this is quickly shadowed by doubts and insecurities that creep in and take up a more permanent residence in my mind. I turn to prayer in search of clarity, but if I’m being honest I wish God would answer me in an Australian accent and just tell me where to go.
And that’s when I can almost hear God respond “Oh how foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe.” As I reflect on today’s readings, appropriately the Gospel tells us about a different kind of journey, the road to Emmaus. We hear the familiar story of how they did not recognize as he walked beside them for many miles.
This story forces me to confront how often I am prevented from seeing Jesus walk right beside me, how I become so tunnel-vision on my own goals that I become blinded to the ways that He is making movements in my life.
Too often I find myself overwhelmed, lost, confused, and frustrated that things don’t appear to be going my way, I plead with God for answers. It’s in these moments I hear a quiet voice say, “remember my promise, that I am with you always.”
As I look ahead to my immediate future there are still a lot of blanks. However, I’m learning to better appreciate the unknown, trusting that God will reveal himself to me in His way, just as He revealed Himself to the disciples in the breaking of bread. These “blank” periods I’ve encountered in my own life journey have taught me that my God is a God of Mystery and rather than try to dissect every aspect of my life, I choose to find the grace to humbly rest in the mystery, trust the process and enjoy the ride.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Her LinkedIn profile would tell you she’s a “Passionate professional and effective communicator with an interest in contributing to marketing, communications and project management for a mission-driven organization”… But that’s just what she says to impress future employers. Katie is your average 24 year old, wanderlusty, caffeine-dependent life form. She enjoys handwritten thank you cards, thrift stores, journaling, traveling, serving and she challenges herself with yoga and running. Her faith is central to everything she does. She was first introduced to the Living Person in 2013 when Jurell forced her to sign up for a half-marathon, and she’s been grateful ever since.