Once again, I find myself on Prince Edward Island.
It’s surreal to be back. Everything is very familiar: the red dirt, the rolling countryside, the water, the people, as if I never left. And yet I feel that my memories are from a year ago, not merely two months past. Almost as if I never truly left, but somehow managed to misplace the memories from between then and now. Strange, yes?
I really don’t know what comes next . . . and I really don’t care that I don’t know, because I do know I am where I am meant to be, even if the world is a little foggy at the moment. Eventually the fog will lift and I will understand. Until then, it’s an adventure, a true adventure—risky but not reckless, as long as I remain connected to Christ. My lifeline is prayer; prayer is what keeps me from stumbling off the pathway to be lost in the fog.
Still, sometimes I wonder if I’m a little crazy. But then I think, No, right now I am called to be a wanderer, and if I decide to reject this calling, that would be crazy. Yes, what’s crazy is not to set off in the direction He points. Does He not, after all, know where every pathway leads?
I am in the highlands, staff in hand, satchel on my back, wind against my face, fire in my heart. I don’t know what awaits me above, but I climb. I will climb until there is nothing left in me. Only then, when I have bled for Love, will I find what I have been called to find.