It’s like you’re facing a new road, blindfolded.
When I was eighteen, my grandparents planned to move to Florida to live with my parents. They always came down, usually for a month or so, and during their last visit before the move, Grandma was talking to me in the living room. We were looking at my growing collection of Grace Livingston Hill books. This was one special thing we shared, our love for these old fashioned stories.
“You know why I really love them?” Grandma said. “They are relaxing stories, where everything works out, but they still remind me of truth. Like right here.”
She reached up and pulled down a book, flipped through it and pointed to a section. “These verses, they are just what I need right now. We’re planning to leave the place I grew up, raised my family. We’re moving to a new state– and it’s all a dark road. I don’t know how to navigate it. But God promises to lead us, to make the rough places smooth.”
And I will lead the blind
in a way that they do not know,
in paths that they have not known
I will guide them.
I will turn the darkness before them into light,
the rough places into level ground.
These are the things I do,
and I do not forsake them.
I went into my room after our conversation and found the verses in my Bible, right there in Isaiah, and underlined them.
And this morning I opened that old Bible and there they were, underlined.
Today we are walking a road we don’t know. Wandering down paths we can’t see the end of. Believing that the God we serve will make the rough places smooth, that He will hold our hands and lead us around every corner and curve, every phone call, every decision, every hope.
And the darkness will turn to light before us, as we take each step.
He will not forsake us.