Choices

10-27-11

Fiction-y thing.
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In her mind, she stood at the edge of a precipice.

Choosing which way to go had never been this difficult before. There'd always been beaten paths. Safe paths. Paths whose beginning and ends and in-betweens could nearly always be clearly discerned. Paths with predictability.

But then she'd met Him, and He'd turned her world upside down. Oh, not literally. It's not like she thought that Australia was in the Northern Hemisphere or anything like that. It's just that His philosophy was topsy-turvy to everything that the rest of the world espoused. Spinning and swirling and dipping and twirling, they'd whirled their way through the years since they'd met.

He was patient, for sure, since she was slow to trust Him. (Who'd trust anyone, even Him, after the way various people had treated her for being intelligent, for being weird, for being herself?) But sometimes, it seems, the relationship that's strongest grows most slowly, takes its time to dig deep roots.

Yet she'd still stuck to the paths she considered safe. Choosing an easy, clearly discernible and predictable path was just another way of taking control out of His hands and putting it into hers. She chose correctly when prompted, but sometimes deciding to go out of the beaten, safe path had felt like searching through a dark forest without a flashlight. Yet she'd listened and followed the trackless paths through the forest.

And she'd stumbled out of that forest only to find herself on the edge of a precipice. Or what looked like a precipice, anyway. It certainly looked like a long, long way down to the bottom of the gorge. But she trusted His voice--and trusted Him. And she certainly wouldn't know if it were truly a precipice or just an illusion of a precipice until she took steps forward.

She put one foot out into seemingly nothingness and took a step.
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There you go. More later.