Navigating the Unknown: Lessons from the Road

I spent 12 hours on the road over a day and a half driving through south-central Nebraska and north-central Kansas. My journey took me through a patchwork of cornfields, rolling hills, cattle pastures, cedar trees and small towns. My favorite moments were when I crested a hill to see a wide expanse of valley and rolling hills stretching as far as my eye could see. The unique beauty of this region was breathtaking, yet some of the journey involved navigating roads where I could only see a short distance ahead. 

A lesson from Abram

During the drive, I listened to a podcast about the Biblical story of Abram and Sarai, who were promised descendants as numerous as the stars, despite being unable to have children. The teacher explained that when Abram asked God how this would happen, the clues in the Hebrew text indicate God initially remained silent. When Abram pressed further, God shared only a small part of the plan: Abram would have descendants of his own flesh and blood. With just this piece of information, the characters in the story took matters into their own hands to produce an heir. 

This resonated with me as I focused intently on the road. The yellow and white lines guided me, often with only the hill ahead in view. At times, I could only see the patch of pavement a few car lengths in front of me. Other times, I couldn’t see around the semi truck I was anxious to pass. It was only on rare occasions, with an open road and a clear view from the top of a hill, that I could see the vastness that lay ahead. 

Trusting the journey

In life, I rarely get to see the full picture of what is to come. My mind may create stories based on fears or fantasies. Yet, I seldom get to know what is on the horizon. Perhaps that is because if I knew the plan, I might try to take matters into my own hands to manipulate the outcome, just like Abram and Sarai did. By trusting the journey, I learn to stay present and savor the rare moments of clarity. Every so often, I crest a hill that I’ve worked hard to climb, only to be awed by the beautiful view of what life has to offer.