How far can you see?

 Last week I was on vacation in the Midwest. I lived in the Midwest for seven years, and I've been back a few times since I moved four years ago. The thing that struck me in the Midwest, as it always does, is how much sky you can see. You can see for miles and miles. That song, "On a Clear Day You Can See Forever" was written by someone who has driven in parts of the country like the Midwest. The cloud-scapes of the Midwest take my breath away. I love seeing all the windmills and wondering just how far away I am from the water towers that I can see along the horizon. 

I live on the East coast now and I can't see quite as far. I love where I live. The mountains are beautiful. We have some amazing views in this area. There are moments when I drive up the mountain on my way home and I drive right into a cloud. I wonder if I'm driving out of Narnia or into it. I can't always see as far as I might want to, but I've learned to appreciate and love the views I do have.

I feel like faith is like that, sometimes. Sometimes we have a clear view and we can quite literally see forever. We can see so much and it's clear and lovely and we know exactly where we're going. Or, we can see far enough that we know there's a problem up ahead and we have an incredible amount of time to change directions before we get stuck in that traffic jam. And there are times when we can only see what's right in front of us. It's not a bad view. In fact, it's often quite beautiful. But it's not always as expansive a view as we might prefer. 

I'm thinking of a time when I took a leap of faith into a big unknown. It was a time when I couldn't see more than a few feet in front of me, but it was what I truly believed was the right thing to do for my family and me. I had no idea how the decision would play out. But as the future unfolded and pieces fell together, the roads changed. The view became clearer. I trusted God to bring me where I needed to be, even if I couldn't quite see where that was, and here I am. Have you ever had an experience like that? I expect most of us have. 

I'm in a season of life now where my view isn't quite as expansive as I'd like it to be. I am a planner at heart and I'd like some pieces to fall together a little more quickly, and they just aren't. I don't know if there's a reason. I don't always trust the saying, "There's a reason for everything." I believe sometimes the reason is just because it is what it is, and there's no deeper reason than that. My counselor would call that "radical acceptance," so that's what I'm trying to work on. I'm radically accepting that there are parts I'd like to change or see more clearly. But over all, I accept that the good parts are amazing and the missing pieces are just not there. Maybe they will never be there, but in the meantime, I'm working on enjoying the view that's right in front of me. 

I'm writing this to encourage you, because you, dear reader, may be in a similar place. You may be in a season of life with a limited view and I hope that even if the view isn't quite as expansive as you'd like it to be, you still have space to see the view as beautiful. I hope you still find space to enjoy what you can see. Bask in it, even if it's just a moment of basking. Take a deep breath. In. Out. Repeat as often as needed!



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