Here's to Hope: January 2013

Some times we trip over a rock.

Isn't it strange? Those moments when you're walking along the footpath, talking animatedly with a friend or two, putting all of your attention and enthusiasm into what you are saying that you push the obvious aspects of everything else you are doing to the back of your mind. You completely disregard all the actions your body is carrying out naturally, the things it's still doing for you easily like clockwork.
And so it is the most shocking, unpredicted experience when all of a sudden...
you trip over a rock.

Your feet stumble in surprise and your hands fly out to steady yourself by instinct, but still there is that untimely moment of complete shock you experience when the message is sent to your head that, "oh, you tripped over a rock. You could have fallen over, just then. That was unexpected, wasn't it?".

Then, you must take a few moments to find yourself and gather the storyline you vividly imagined as you were describing it to your friend. It's funny how that train of thought simply flies off the rails the moment the normality of your walk comes falling down around you.

All because of a rock, laying lifelessly and inanimately on the footpath.

Do we then proceed to be angry at the rock?

Well, sometimes, I suppose we do. Which, as we do so, we already know is an embarrassingly irrational reaction.

Generally, we don't blame the rock. We instead feel our cheeks turn rosy and feel the slight heat of humiliation fall across the back of our necks.

I usually wait for the friend to have a laugh at me. Then it's almost expected of me to start grumbling about how it had irritated me slightly, therefore making it worthy and acceptable to act annoyed.

It's almost awkward and unacceptable for someone to ignore it, isn't it?

We rarely ever seem capable of carrying on with our conversation while tripping on a rock, do we?

No matter how lively or enthralling the story may be.

To be honest, I bet I'm one of the only people on this planet (if not the only one) who has ever analyzed stepping on a pebble so thoroughly. At least by choice.
But it makes for a sufficient enough metaphorical image to have in my head when I look over my walk in life recently.

There's something about my world for the past little while, where lately I've felt as though I was in the process of tripping on a rock.

I had a storyline, a point to my conversation, but now all of a sudden... 'what was I saying?'

I've been stumbling over an unexpected thought in the uncharted areas of my own life's map, where I was tripped up by something small, but large enough to have an effect.

Lately I've been left wondering how to balance myself out again and continue walking straight.

But I guess the comforting thing is that the friend I'm walking with - Jesus, you've heard of Him, right?
He's not really one to laugh at my misfortune. Not even when I trip on a tiny little rock; not even doing so in sympathy.

He's too busy listening intently on the story I'm telling him with my life - ever at the ready to answer all my questions and offer literally the wisest advice known to all existence at the bat of an eyelash.

So, you know.

The other day, I tripped over a rock.

And I felt a little flustered and frustrated, and I kind of lost my train of thought.

But I had found I was never interrupted with a snicker from my friend.

And the beautiful thing is that whenever something trips me up, all I have to do is turn to my friend and ask, "What was I saying?"

And He'll most happily put my train back on track.