A very small window

Today, while driving to Williamsburg with my friend Lisa, I realized how Christopher’s death has changed the way that I see a part of the way God leads.  If you’ve ever used a GPS, you’ll know what I am talking about.  

As you are going along, you can see where you are on the screen, but you can’t see very far ahead.  You only see what you need to see for the next few miles. That is really the way that God seems to deal with me.  For example, I know that I am supposed to apply for the PhD program, but I don’t really know if that is what I need to be doing next fall; He only seems to be showing me a few steps at a time.

Until Christopher died, this was more frustrating to me than it it is today.  I used to want to see how this was all going to work together; I wanted to know what He was doing.  I know realize that I am so thankful that I didn’t know that December 8, 2007, what Christopher’s date to pass from this world to the next.  Had I known, I wouldn’t have been able to let myself enjoy what were to be his final days.  
I used to think that withholding His plan, was God’s way of denying me what I thought I needed.  In reality, withholding His plan enabled me to enjoy what I had.
God is good and life is hard.  This is not a contradiction or a lack of faith; it is my reality.  It is hard because this is not my home.
I am in Williamsburg staying in a timeshare.  Even though it is really nice, it is not my home and I don’t expect that I’ll be totally comfortable before we head home; I still can’t figure out which light switches control what lights, for example.  It makes it hard to get around.  
That is not unlike why life can be hard.  When I get to heaven, everything will have a place and be in its place, me included.  
This is not my home.  I want to go home, but again, I only see a little bit of the picture ahead and, thus far, it doesn’t include heaven.  I guess, I just have to trust that is my destination and keep on following, one little window at a time.