What the little girl knew

When I was a little girl, I was certain I would grow up to marry a pastor.

I would learn to play the piano, of course. Because in my young mind, it all went together. Pastor's wife. Piano player. Church.

I had it all figured out.

Except, as it turns out, I didn't.

I didn't marry a pastor. I never learned to play the piano, despite Mom's efforts. But I did marry a wonderful man, and we've built an amazing life together. And my journey with God has been far less tidy than the one that little girl probably imagined.

There were years when I wandered. Years when I questioned. Times when the noise of the world seemed louder than the voice of God I had heard so clearly as a child.

But underneath it all, something remained.

Faith!

Not because I understood God completely. I don't.

Not because I followed perfectly. I haven't.

And certainly not because the journey unfolded according to my childhood plan. It didn't.

But somewhere along the way, I began to understand that faith isn't about having the journey mapped out. It is about knowing who leads it.

Today, I choose to walk with Him.

Not ahead of Him, asking Him to bless the route I've already chosen. Not beside Him as though we are equal partners negotiating the itinerary.

With Him.

He leads. I follow.

Some days I do that better than others.

Maybe that little girl wasn't entirely wrong after all. She didn't know what her life would look like. She couldn't have imagined the roads she would travel, the people she would love, the things she would lose, or the woman she would eventually become.

But she knew she wanted to walk with God.

So do I.