I’ll cross that bridge…
I have a bunch of projects in the works right now that, well, to be perfectly honest, scare the crap out of me. We’re all friends here. I can be honest, right?
Although I can’t say much about anything right now, I’ll tell you this: Every single new work-related thing staring me in the face is going to push me farther and farther out of my comfort zone. And, just to be clear, my comfort zone is the corner of my basement, where I can remain an invisible entity who quietly — and sometimes not so quietly — writes all alone, save for the company of my two cats.
I am perfectly content to be faceless. I don’t need a giant following. I don’t want to get into online arguments with rabid fans. I just want to be. But apparently that’s not what God has planned for me.
Why do I think it’s God behind all this and not my own selfish desires? Because I have had nothing to do with anything that has come my way. I have been minding my own business, going about my mostly anonymous writing, but every week, it seems, I get another email asking me to be part of something I never would have considered for myself. I keep asking, “Is this where I’m supposed to be going?” I guess I’ll never know for sure, but all I know is that I didn’t choose the course. It’s not like I’m sitting here with a Ouija board pushing that little wooden indicator thingamabob toward the answers I want. (Please refrain from writing to me about the dangers and sinfulness of using a Ouija board. I don’t actually own a Ouija board. The image was for effect, but now it’s ruined.)
I keep telling Dennis I just want to disappear, become a hermit. At almost 50 years old, that seems like the more logical path for me. Imagine a little hermit cave at the end of that bridge path in the photo above. I can see myself there quite easily. But, no, that’s not where that little bridge is leading. The other side of my bridge will be filled with traffic and long car rides and occasional plane or train rides, but definitely no cave. And I’m a little panicked over that. Part of me knows I can’t pass up the opportunities, and the other part of me wonders, as I always do when I find myself in this place, why not go get a little job at Hewitt’s garden center? Because that’s not where God keeps pushing me to be, although it’s definitely my Plan B.
For now I’m trying to take it one day at a time and not let things that are weeks or months away destroy my peace today. But I’m not very good at living in the moment. I like living in a moment at least two months, maybe two years down the road. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it” has never been my motto. I like to cross the bridge at least 50 or 60 times a day in my mind so that I’ll be ready when the real bridge is finally in front of me. You can imagine how tiring it gets crossing bridges all day long.
I’ll keep you posted as things progress, but, for now, if you have a minute and a prayer to spare, please put in a good word for me, that I cross the right bridge at the right time, especially if it’s during rush hour.