Left Foot on Green

I’m stuck.

It’s my own fault. I don’t know what ‘unstuck’ looks like. I’ve been too busy with being so busy, I haven’t stopped for two seconds and figure things out. I haven’t really been listening. I haven’t really been paying attention.

I may, or may not, be ignoring all the signs.

I read this Facebook status today. I, in no way, am trying to make someone else’s sadness or tragedy about me. But there’s this part that I can’t get out of my brain. Like she wrote it for me even though I know for certain that she didn’t:

Fifteen years ago, my pastor Veronica said that when she had no clue what direction to take, she imagined standing in a spotlight, as if on stage, and waited, prayerfully, until one more spotlight began to appeared nearby. Then she would go stand in that circle of light.


I surrendered. I lay down my weapons and went over to the winning side. I am a recovering Higher Power.


I’ve been standing still for a really long time. (I mean, metaphorically speaking of course.) I’ve been resisting change. You know, standing in my own way like I do. Tying my own shoelaces together and attempting to run. Falling flat on my face because, well, you can’t get very far like that. If I could just get my feet untangled and start walking, maybe I’d figure out where the heck I’m supposed to go?

I’m feeling very Dorothy, yellow-brick-road, need a brain/heart/courage right now.

But that pastor and standing on the stage and the light. Knowing what your next step is. Or the next place. Maybe it’s just knowing the plan or having a plan. Maybe it’s not. What if it’s all about putting your feet *right there* and then (THEN!) you’ll know what comes next.

It’s like Twister for real life.

That’s pretty powerful stuff. Not just because it’s a lot like Twister.

I’m just saying, A LOT could be learned by putting left foot on green.

Or stepping into your light. THE light. And just knowing.