Sometimes God moves you to new places and faces and gives you new assignments. It can make for some awkwardness and unsteadiness and anxiety. I feel all of those. My universe seems to have dipped a little. What I have been, awhile now, is shifting somewhere, somehow, to something else, that I don’t yet know.
I feel as if I am in one of those stupid fun houses at the low rent fairgrounds or that one at Six Flags that makes me so sick ( of course, all of Six Flags – especially the mingled smell of sweating flesh and sweating asphalt – makes me sick.)
Some things that seemed so sovereignly mine to do are fading in their sounding to my ears. Some things, once nearly my identity, seem strangers now. Everything seems up in the air or in some great sea where my feet are far from even sand’s steadying. It’s a strange surreal place…and usually, I love the surreal… the blurring greens and blues, the watery, fluid feel of life lived apart from structure. I am a floater. I am a flyer. I walk where I do not know where I may end up. I follow streams and Big Fish.
But, this fun house is painted bright orange and red, with yellow letters and violet floors. You warned me God, I’ve seen the flash of those colors nearly nine weeks now. You showed me their coming after the blue greens and skies and seas. You showed me sunset and flame and warm, bright flares.
These stop signs all fly up at me. And so I am taking my foot off of the gas, as my Daddy taught me when approaching a stop sign, though the sign is fairly far off, yet…too far for me to read the street name where it stands guard. But I see the red and reflex to slow as that octagonal shape begins to loom large. I’ll let those eights remind me of dreams beyond, shared and yet encapsulated, and stop still upon this path and seek out the new.