The leaf, blown and tossed by the wind, torn from the branch, and whirling down the alleyway... My life's momentum, carrying me where I fear to go, and in a direction I question as if my future is somewhere inscribed in tea leaves or on my palm, written on some golden tablets on a sacred mountain I have yet to climb.
David said that all his days were written in God's book before any of them came to be, and elsewhere in the Bible it says God has determined the times set for nations and the exact places where they would live, but where does that leave human sin, peoples' faltering attempts to discern where they should go, humans' ill-advised leaps into the unknown places where perhaps they ought not to have gone?
Is it enough to say that everywhere you go, God will be there? That everything you are called to do, you will be equipped to perform? Is God's Spirit guiding you and hedging you in, and, much like Balaam's donkey, is He ready to articulate a warning if you are heading into danger? Does everything in your life have a purpose, everything fitting together like some intricate puzzle, everything woven into a tapestry of which you can only see the tangled underside?
Can I trust that I am not headed down some rabbit-trail, down some dead-end alley where I will encounter all my old enemies once again? Am I mistrusting myself and my discernment or am I really displaying a lack of faith in God and his promises? That he and I can't face anything together and ultimately triumph?