We now await answers and further leading. We are watching eagerly for those last doors to open so that we might be invited into the plans that we believe God has for us. However, I am also beginning to notice the doors behind me closing, perhaps locking. There is no going back. For us, those doors represent friendships, family, security, and comfort. Every time that I hear the “click” as the doorknob catches against the doorframe, I feel the familiar, but odd, mixture of fear, sadness, and excitement threaten to overtake me. Tears come in private, sometimes never quite making it past the edge of my eye, but longing for the freedom to roll down my cheek unhindered.
Earlier tonight, I was thinking about biblical examples of how God moved his followers from one place to another, by way of a rough, rarely traveled path. By that, of course, I mean one wrought with difficulty and perhaps not easy to discern where He was really leading. Immediately, I thought of Joseph. How could he have known what God was doing for his good? Scripture is clear that he did not see the big picture; God had not provided him with that information. Joseph was not there when the plans were made, long before he ever existed. But even as Joseph began to realize that things were changing and could never be the same, he somehow continued forward, as though propelled by God himself. He was literally forced out of his comfort zone. But he was faithful to God and was used for His much larger purpose as a result.
It is a difficult thing not to look back and desire what we had when life is changing so rapidly. We must long for present and future peace, clarity and purpose, rather than clinging to those we experienced in the past. Living on such memories is like driving on gas fumes—they will not sustain for long. We must rely moment by moment upon the peace that Jesus provides. Even as the doors close behind us and we await the opening of those before us. Even as the room becomes smaller, even claustrophobic, we must be at peace in the waiting.