Just do the next right thing.
She walks the shoulder of the road, feet slapping pavement every once in a while. Light shining all around. Air fresh and clean with the on-again-off-again afternoon showers. And in the bushes, a rustling of some kind of small creature. A bird? A mouse? The fragrance of fresh-mown grass hangs in the air like a delicate cloud. Sweet and pungent. And she thinks to herself that sometimes one is fearful of the unknown. Of the ‘what next’? For we want to know what lies around the bend. What twists and turns are waiting for us up ahead.
But then she remembers. We are called to simply do the next right thing. One foot in front of the other. Steady and sure.
Because in this life, one can never truly see what lies in wait around the bend. Our eyes don’t work like that. They see what presents itself directly before us. And past the twists and turns, we are blissfully unaware of what lies ahead. And isn’t that the comfort? That comfort of one step at a time. Nothing more and nothing less. Knowing that we are only asked to what we are able. And we are only able to do what can be done right now. And sometimes knowing that what must be done is not always as important as doing it. Doing something. And doing it with surety and conviction. Knowing that God only leads us to places that He’s already been to first. He knows the way. And our job is to put foot in front of foot. And follow the path that we are on.
And just do the next right thing.