On the Verge

Imagine a flat plain as far as the eye can see. It has slight dips and rises, but the land flows in a relatively consistent stream. As you approach a small rise seemingly no different from all others you have strolled up, you spot a difference. Off in the distance, there is a dark area. An unknown patch. Not menacing, but different from any other area you have seen.

When you gradually make your way closer, a gray wall of fog materializes in front of you. Somehow, you know that you must step in. You must take the risk. You must trust that the path for your life runs through that unknown patch, that unseeable future.

I am facing a towering column of gray fog. As I spent tonight packing up my room and preparing to leave Gustavus in the morning, I was visited by wonderful friends who came to wish me luck and say goodbye. They constantly expressed their excitement for the opportunity soon to arrive in my life. While my excitement about studying abroad in New Zealand is real, I can sense the uncertainty facing me.

I love to plan out my career path, my college courses, the steps in my relationships, and my days. A problem arises with this futuristic strength when one is confronted with a future that is simply unknown. I cannot see through the fog to predict the friendships that will be formed, the lessons learned, and the experiences had. I cannot even rely on the comfort found in a known academic situation.

As I sit here on my bed and gaze down at St. Peter from my window, I am struck by the beauty of the small bed of fog resting over the town. It blankets the orange lights and all the buildings seem to nestle sweetly down in it for the night.

The fog is beautiful. It is filled with new surprises and twists. An unexpected friend or helpful stranger may pop out from the mist and bring joy to your life. In the same way, a difficult experience or stressful issue may leap up at any moment. Through all, I find comfort in this: God has promised to guide me through New Zealand and beyond. As I began preparing for this trip during the summer, God laid a verse on my heart that has brought me peace. In Psalm 139, it is written:

"If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,

your right hand will hold me fast."

I will be on the far side of the sea in eleven days. While the things to come seem enshrouded in fog, I know whose hands I am in. They are strong, caring, and dependable hands.