Sometimes our present coordinates make sense,
we are where we are as a matter of course,
where we expected we would be.
We believed His leading, followed His precepts,
so here we are, where our faith has led us,
in the ‘thick of things’, where ‘it all makes sense.’

We may even be mildly impatient,
with those less certain, of their station and direction,
‘of course you will receive guidance, if you ask for it..’

Then there are those times,
when we are less certain,
and it’s been a minute, since we last heard,
‘in 500ft turn right.’
So we wonder if we missed a turn,
We should have gotten ‘there’ by now.

The trail goes cold.
Our days, the actions within them,
feel detached from anything bigger,
losing consequence, serial chores is all they become.

Here we must stop.
Backtracking as needed, to our last certain location,
that place of conviction without ambiguity,
that last thing we heard to do, last place we knew to be,
then probe for the usual culprits;
like disobedience –
that nemesis of many a walk of faith,
destroyer of destinies,
that point at which we frequently part ways with certainty.