It's All Come Down To This

It’s All Come Down To This

I’m climbing a mountain.

The terrain is rocky, rough and exhausting.

Part of me thinks I made a wrong turn.

Another part accuses me of making a mistake.

My father’s voice reverberates saying I didn’t do enough. 

If I could look in a mirror I don’t think I’d see the gray haired man that I am.

I think the reflection would be younger. 

But reflections lie. Our image tells us what we want to hear, not what’s really in front of us.

No one talks about age like this.

We’re expected to know exactly what to do and how to do it.

At 65 shouldn’t the next step be easy?

But it’s not easy.

I’m expected to accept something I have no experience at.

All around me the signs are loud but not clear.

I wait for God’s voice but if I’m silent too long the void fills with more accusations, more

uncertainty, more what ifs.

Big changes are happening, big.

Some I can't talk about, others are still a secret.

They’re all good changes I hope but it means what is won’t be and that thing in me that grasps at security, ritual and

consistency, feels like it’s being choked out. 

Some of the most important areas of growth gain a bit of clarity and then a pebble is thrown into the water

and the vision blurs as the ripples distort the truth.

I’m not unhappy, I’m not dissatisfied, and I’m excited with the thought of change.

But there’s so much I don’t know.

At the top of the mountain is a cave.

The opening is narrow and I’m afraid of tight spaces.

In order to crawl inside I must shed the load I carry.

The physical things are easily discarded but those speaking to my soul are much more difficult to

release.

I’m on my hands and knees.

I wish I had a flashlight.

I’m waiting for His signal….and waiting.

It’s all come down to this.