The day after I was laid off, I got up in the morning like normal, and got in my car to drive to work – although this time a bit less motivated than I had been before. I did what I always do: turned on the radio, and scanned the stations, looking for 98.1. It’s the Fayetteville station, but I always listen to it because Bob and Sheri make me laugh. I can usually pick them up loud and clear from my house, and sometimes start to lose the signal just as I’m turning into the parking deck at work.
But this morning, for some reason, I just couldn’t find them. My radio refused to stop on 98.1. And so, reeling from the shock of the day before and feeling a bit introspective, I resolved to drive in silence and submit to what I imagined was God’s attempt to get me to talk to Him on the way in, instead of laughing at my favorite talk show.
I prayed as I drove down Business 70, asking God to be with me today, to continue to close the doors that should be closed, and guide me as I went on from here; to provide for me and Simon, and help me to continue to be peaceful about the changes happening.
When I use the exit from Business 70 onto the 70 bypass that leads to the Interstate, it takes me over a bridge that descends onto the highway and spits me out into the 70 mph traffic. This morning, as I drove across the bridge and headed down onto the bypass, it dropped me into the deepest fog I’ve ever seen. I could only see 5 yards in front of me, and yet I barreled on, my foot on the gas, 70 mph into the great unknown. I couldn’t see where I was going, but I knew the road would unfold in front of me. I couldn’t see it, but I trusted it to be there.
And then, something like a voice, but not a voice, said, “This is what you do now. You can only see a few feet in front of you, but you keep going, full speed ahead, and you trust.”
Sometimes the fog’s so thick I can’t see a damn thing. But He told me to go, so I’m putting the pedal to the metal, and I’m watching as the road unfolds before me, just like He promised me it would.
