I walk out of COM and take a deep breath. The smell of mulch clings to the air, and the breeze fondly ruffles my hair as I stroll through the pathway. Nothing smells as good as being outside after being cooped up for four and a half hours. Stepping onto the grass, I squint at my phone–the screen protector looks horrendous, and maybe I should turn the brightness up–and to my delight, the computer science department is only a few paces away from where I stand.
Looking up, I find myself in front of a curious sculpture, and I pause.
The arrow seems to be pointing optimistically upward, and I wish that I could have that much direction in my life. It’s always nice to know where you’re going, and I’m notorious for being over prepared and having at least a five-year plan.
I stare at it for a few moments before snapping a photo, thinking all the while of the lack of direction I find myself with. A sunny day with minimal wind should be an excuse to frolic and be cheerful, but I feel lost, and a little bit like a failure.
Sometimes–actually, often now–I ask God where he is. When is He coming? When is He going to come through for me? When is He going to acknowledge me? I’ll admit, I’ve been waiting for an answer for a while, and I was feeling discouraged.
Suddenly, everything seemed to click as I stood there observing the sculpture, whose arrow had what I so envied. I remembered the book of Psalm, which I had just finished reading. A particular verse came to mind:
I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord. Psalm 27:13-14
Throughout the book of Psalm, it talks about God being our strength and shield, that he will deliver the righteous, and that we should trust him to come through for us.
I believe that, through silence, God is teaching me to be patient. To be patient, to be strong, to wait, and to have faith. Although I am anxious, I should not be. In Psalm, God repeatedly comes to the aid of those who love him.
So while my direction may not be as distinct as the arrow’s, I will be confident that while I may not have control or a plan, the One who knows all things has one for me.