standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon.
The breeze in my face.
Toes dangling off the edge.
There's a large safety net. Invisible, but definitely there.
It's scary and exciting, but there's no real danger.
Only adventure and anticipation of the unknown.
I'm just waiting for the cue to jump. The timing has to be right.
Waiting for direction. A jump in the wrong direction could be disastrous.
It happens through my quiet time with the Lord. These inklings that something is on the horizon. Then through the words of a friend. And another. And another. Then through an acquaintance. This gentle prodding to move.
Sometimes we're walking blind. But the key is to move.
And then to wait when necessary. The way a child waits to cross the street. Wait for a clear path and then move when told to.
I'm so thankful I have a hand to hold, to direct me and guide me.