Fearing the Fall

It’s a little crazy for me to think that I’m halfway to being halfway done with my undergraduate studies. It seems like just a few months ago that I was staring at the rejection email from New York University, questioning where the Lord wanted me to be. I had known that I was being called to attend university in a big city somewhere, I just didn’t know which one. When I had felt for so long that NYU was the one, the rejection made me question my intuition, my gifts, and pretty much everything to do with my life trajectory that my high school brain could muster at the time.

This October, I was able to visit a friend with my sister in New Jersey. Just a short train ride away from New York City, I was ready to explore the city without the expectations of a college tour, but instead with an open heart to see the sites from the perspective of my friend who had lived in Brooklyn for a whole year. Walking the streets of Brooklyn lit that familiar, “I want to live here” bug in my heart that I had once felt so strongly, but this time, I could rest in the sense that yes, maybe one day I could live here, but just not right now.

Listening to those little heart promptings to follow the Way can be tricky, especially when you throw daily obligations, the demands of work and school, and the noise of media into the mix. I picture the path to follow Our Lord like a parent letting go of a child learning how to ride a bike for the first time. The child knows their parent loves them and isn’t letting go of them to watch their child fall. The parent lets go in hopes that the child can use their bravery, strength, and knowledge to carry that bike in a balanced way. When the child falls? The parent is there. When we fall –He is there. I don’t always feel His hand on my shoulder guiding my way down the path and I know that this is not an absence of love. In fact, I know my Father expects me to try again, even if it’s the next day, or even the next month.

I was so thankful by the end of senior year that I had applied to that school in Canada, the one that I thought I had no chance getting into. Even if my bike was left lop-sided in the street, wheels spinning, tears staining my childhood cheeks, He wanted me to try again. By some force, by some prompting, that God-given grace, He guided me back onto the bike.

The Lord guides each one of us to continually seek Him out in the tasks that seem impossible. Using the gifts He has given us we can hop on the bike, move it forward (no matter how wobbly the trek) and get to a new place in our very own imperfect way.

 Boldly ask the Lord for His guiding hand today. He leads us to where we are called, and where we are called, our hearts will be filled with His everlasting love and peace.