I’ve said this before, but I don’t like going on a journey just for the sake of it. The only mystery tour I’d tolerate is like the one my granny went on years ago which was called ‘the mystery tour to Armagh’.
Every time I’m driving somewhere new I do it over and over on Google maps, studying the landmarks at every junction and replaying it in my head. Even then, I have to have the voice on telling me when to turn and how long to keep on that road. I tried to do without it on the way back thinking, surely I can easily reverse the directions. I still took a wrong turn!
When it comes to health, many of us come face to face with the terrifying Unknown. What will I feel like tomorrow, next month, next year? Who knows.
The ‘not knowing’, ‘wait and see’ time we’re all existing in right now doesn’t have a road map either. Our politicians are trying to bluff their way through it but their guess is as good as ours. This is no great adventure or named mystery tour. Nobody has the insider knowledge. No -one is designated driver.
I always find in unknown times it comforts me to hold on to what I do know. A few years ago when my son had dizzy spells his dad told him to put his hand on the wall beside him. Because that wasn’t moving.
What is your wall right now? Your family? Friends? Garden? Your faith?
There’s an old hymn which has the line, ‘on Christ the solid rock I stand. All other ground is sinking sand.’ That’s the rock I want to be on during this hazy, sinking sand time.
(I’ve written a book! Read it monthly, subscribe for £2.50)