I slammed my journal shut.
It happened a year ago beside a mountain stream. Sprinkles started, slowing my pen and smudging the pages. I stomped to the car and cowered, away from the rain.
It felt like my life. Another storm raining on my parade.
Much of what I had been through I wished had “never come to me.” There was a whisper hinting at how this life I live is part of a grander scheme, but even the hidden dreams within scared me. Seemed unattainable.
Often I’ve wish my own personal “ring” had never come to me.
Frodo: I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.
Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in this world Frodo, besides the will of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring. In which case, you were also meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought.
Lately I’m contemplating life change. Some days I’m excited, free, chomping at the bit to move forward.
Other days I want to ignore the things I believe have “come to me” as Frodo described it. I supposed I feel much as he did. Small and insignificant in comparison to the task. Concerned I don’t have it in me. Not sure of the cost or my ability to pay it.
But this week Gandalf spoke to me from the screen, “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us,” and I heard those words for me. For this time. For the things I’m contemplating doing, the things that call to me much as the ring called to Frodo that ask if I am willing to carry the burden.
All of middle earth depended on Frodo’s yes. Thankfully the whole world doesn’t depend on mine.
But what if fifty people or 100 or even one is stronger, freer, safer because I write more bravely, speak more candidly, share my Truth?
I suppose the courage comes in part from Gandalf also, “There are other forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides the will of evil.”
If the Force for Good calls me forward, how can I be silent?
Today I was out walking when I got caught in the rain. At first I ran from tree to tree, rushing through the pelting wet to shelter. Eventually, though, I held my head high, let the water soak me. I didn’t hide.
I enjoyed the storm.
I hope it is a metaphor for the growth of the last year. I hope that I can hold my head high and weather the storm. Let the rain trickle down my face and receive it as refreshment instead of assault. That instead of allowing hard times to rain on my parade I can keep marching forward.
Until next time,