What does the future hold? Why do we do what we do, making small decisions that seem mundane at the time, but end up redirecting our daily lives?
Six weeks ago Jim and I were happily ensconced in a comfortable suburban house in a friendly neighborhood. Then I got an email from a woman who owns a condo in Broad Ripple—one of my favorite places. I have walked the Monon trail through Broad Ripple for 20 years with a dear friend and meet with a group of disreputable folks at Perk Up coffee house a couple of days a week there. (They are not really disreputable, I just know they'll get a laugh out of that.)
Anyway, the email recalled that six years ago I put a note in her mailbox saying if she was ever planning to sell her condo, I'd be interested. Six years ago! In two days we had made an offer. In two more days a neighbor walked across the street and bought our house. As I sit here with a sore back in a sea of packed boxes, I wonder how this all happened. It seems as though nothing could have stopped it. It's like the pieces of a 1,000-piece puzzle all floated into place.
I am reminded of the Israelites being led by a pillar of cloud by day and fire by night during their exodus from Egypt. I haven't seen any fire or cloud formations, but I would be lying through my teeth if I said I haven't felt led—even pulled along sometimes.
A hundred times I have looked up and known this is some kind of God Thing. UNITE INDY is growing and we are really busy. Perhaps we are to be in a place that will not require so much attention? Perhaps we are supposed to be closer to our new headquarters on 38th Street? Who knows?
You may ask, how does this gal "see God" in buying a condo? And I would answer: This gal sees God everywhere—in peanut butter, in bugs, in smiles and trees, and most certainly in six weeks of strange, unplanned life-changing occurrences. 1Corinthians 13:12 says: "For now we see through a glass, darkly, now I know in part; but [when I meet God] I shall know even as I am known."
We are limited, and the future is hidden from us. We truly see through a glass darkly as we walk an unknown path. I made a small decision six years ago to put a note in a mailbox. Now I understand that all that time there was a plan in place. It's a God Thing. I know it.
Blessings,
Nancy
