December 9, 2019

The time is of great importance. It is December 9, 2019, a day that will remain etched upon the pages of my mind as long as the cords of memory and time will lengthen. Quietly, I sit in my upstairs office, my desk neatly perched carefully against the wall. I breathe deeply, exhaling slowly and turning my head so that I might get a good view from my window into the warm and vibrant evening sky. The light from the neighbor’s brick columns adjacent to my house has just flickered on, illuminating its soft and elegant beauty that punctures straight through the encroaching darkness around it. It is in this quiet moment that I am reminded of this thought: Light is to darkness what love is to fear; in the presence of one, the other disappears. As I ponder this thought, my right hand remains delicately draped upon my desk, and my fingers dribble up and down so carefully as I revel at the world beyond me. Shortly after, I see a tiny, speckled cat scamper across the empty street—frightened by the sudden sound of a barking dog just off into the distance.

Let me explain why I am writing this, and more importantly, why I am here.

You see, it is the eve of a very important birthday, my birthday, and at this particular moment, I have found myself in a deep and confounding rut of sorts, wondering what steps lie ahead in the winding staircase of my life. Perhaps, you, the reader, have at some point experienced such a feeling. Perhaps, like me, you have found yourself at one time or another alone at the doorstep of utter silence contemplating what paths may lie ahead.

The questions are likely similar. What possibilities of life lie before me? What will the remaining pages of my life contain? Will it be a wonderful work of drama or a timeless allegory? Will it be a warning or foreshadowing for others? Will it be a story of triumphant achievement and victory? Perseverance and overcoming?

Perhaps, it may be all these things; or perhaps, it may be none. Perhaps, there will be conquest; perhaps, there will be defeat. Perhaps, there will be tears of joy; perhaps, some tears of sorrow. Perhaps, there will be some right; perhaps, there will be some wrong. Will it be a perfect candle shining atop a hill or one that was quickly diffused into the ground? Infamy or honor? Esteem or disfavor?

At this moment, I am desiring a small glimpse into the depths of my future. I am salivating for some understanding of what the world will be, what my life will be, and what will eventually be and become of my earthly destiny. It’s possible you have thought such thoughts yourself; in fact, I am confident and know that in this regard, I am not alone.

Over time, I have realized that I cannot blame anyone else or any other thing for the world that I live in, and along those same lines, I am well aware of the failures and shortcomings I have accumulated over the years. In this world and in this universe, I have come to see every human being as an intricate piece of the whole and each man’s part in the unfolding drama as having utmost importance. Like a giant puzzle, at this particular moment in time, we can safely say that all of us and our pieces fit into this big world house and find our existence in this residence in our own unique way.

But just as it may be that we’ll have a part to play in piecing together this giant puzzle, it is abundantly clear we sometimes cannot find where a particular piece or two fits into the grand scheme of the finished product as a whole. That is where I find myself on this day. That is where, I believe, the world finds itself in this season. Not a small number go around, day after day, attempting to piece together why exactly they have been placed here, for they ask such questions like these: “Who am I?” “Why am I here?” “Where did I come from?” And, “How important am I and my fellow man?”

It seems that in this time, on this eve as I pen these words, the world has been caught up in a web of disarray and finds itself incurable—trouble running rampant in the land with confusion all around. There is darkness before us, and even deeper darkness rooted within us. A futile sense of nothingness seems to be clouding the skies of our personal world and our corporate world as well. This darkness has gripped men and women with unparalleled fears, sending them spiraling down the long corridor of crippling hopelessness and despair. And yet, I’ve heard it said that light is to darkness what love is to fear; in the presence of one, the other disappears.

With that in mind, as I sit here, I find myself thinking intensely on the following possibility: Suppose I could think any thought or dream any dream that my heart so earnestly desires. Suppose I could use that ability to see into the future 5, 10, or perhaps even 50 years from now. Suppose I could ask any question and get any answer regarding the future and the destiny of every being and every creature that graces every crevice and sphere of this world. A secret, perhaps, to help those currently living and those who will one day inhabit planet Earth live a life free from the oppression and the hopelessness that has seemingly come to torture and torment so many in our days.

Let me stop supposing for just a second and again resettle toward the present truth. The truth of the matter is, like so many others, I have tried and tried, searching for answers via the readily available avenues of my day. The so-called “big names” and even those considered the “world’s influential” don’t seem to have them. A long look at the who’s who in society will only assist in affirming this assessment. Yes, I’ve looked high, and I’ve looked low. I’ve looked near, and I’ve looked far. But no man thus far has been able to paint a sufficient picture of what the future of this world will hold and how I and others must prepare for it. Things are changing around us at warp-like speed. If one simply turns on the television and skims the evening news, he will soon find that even these so-called “experts” are completely and absolutely delusional of what challenges or triumphs lie ahead. Thus, all of us find ourselves on a dangerous roller coaster ride, one spiraling out of control into utter darkness, propelling us passengers into many thousands of different directions, bringing about an awareness that soon the end may near, but yet we’re so out of control that we simply hold on for dear life. But yet, even yet, light is to darkness what love is to fear; in the presence of one, the other disappears.

In this moment of reflection, something wonderful has begun to happen. As I sit here alone, my mind suddenly begins to slow down, to ease.

You see, this aloneness affords no sound, and all I find in my possession, the only weapons at my disposal, are my thoughts. In the preceding years, if I have learned a thing, it is that in times of confusion and chaos, my life demands such silence. This time is one of those times. I have come to believe that it is my Father’s way of whispering, “Son, it’s time to get away.” So, like a little child, I obey, going off to be alone to tap into the benefits of such solitude, void of all distraction of sorts. With me is no television, no phone, no music, nothing. And then, with time, the mental war ends, and the mind begins to quiet. I am left with the steady sound of my thoughts, my greatest weapons.

Let us return again to supposing. A few ticks pass, and I proceed to talk to my Father, taking my questions to Him regarding the future, the next 5, 10, 50 years, inquiring as to what exactly it might hold. I gently inquire as to how I and others might assemble for it. After all, He created it, so surely He has within Him the answer. In my whisper, I am, in reality, begging for direction, just to hear a simple voice, an assurance, no matter how quiet that assurance might be.

An hour quickly passes, then two. I hear nothing, and so I continue peering out my window, watching the small feline prance its way across my yard. It’s crazy, isn’t it, talking to this Person I call Father. It seems to be an act of faith to even attempt to raise one’s voice and to focus one’s complete thought and attention on a Being that one cannot physically see, in hopes of hearing an answer in whatever form that might be. But when one is in need of answers, answers mere humans cannot provide, what else can one do?

There was once a collection of teachings penned by a 17th-century monk, where the central theme of his message was the development of the awareness of the presence of the Father in one’s everyday life. The brother, observing nature in the winter, at one time saw a tree stripped of its leaves and considered that within a little time, the leaves would be renewed, and after that, flowers and fruit would appear. Through this observation, he received a high view of the providence and power of the Father, which deeply impacted his soul for the remainder of his earthly life.

In reflecting on this writing, I had made it a point over the preceding weeks to seek to develop this keen sense of the Father in my own life and throughout all my dealings. One of the spiritual maxims presented to assist in developing just that is the faithful practice of the Father’s presence. This directs one to keep his gaze entirely fixed on Him in faith—calmly, humbly, and lovingly, without allowing the appearance of anxious thoughts or emotions. It was a great undertaking in a world of constant busyness and distraction, but one that I felt was very much necessary, especially as I hoped to receive the guidance I so desperately...