I got in my car. My intuition told me to go to the Pearl Cup. The one downtown. I’ve never been there. Downtown has no parking. I begrudged to my intuition, “There won’t be parking. I don’t want to.”
I drove to the Downtown Pearl Cup. I figured I was supposed to meet someone. A mysterious crossing of paths. I arrived. I circled the block. Then peered in. There was nobody inside.
I came to a stop when my wife called. My intuition chimed in when I was on the phone. “Drive straight.” I thought, “Huh? I just drove here. Leave now?” Yup. Leave now.
I drove. My intuition offered turn by turn directions. I chose to listen. It sent me in a circle around the city. After 40 minutes I found myself in the parking lot of the Pearl Cup. The other location. I parked.
I think of my intuition as a divine wisdom. You could say that it’s God talking to me. Or you could say I’m crazy. Whichever makes you more comfortable. Most of the time I err on the side of God whispering wisdom to me. Other times, I lean toward feeling plain crazy. I’m learning to listen to my intuition – even when it doesn’t make sense.
I exited my car. I approached the door thinking, “I wonder who I’m supposed run into that required me to be delayed.” Why did this faux Jew wander the streets Dallas for 40 minutes to get a cup of java?
I walked in. Found an empty spot. Put my stuff down. I was almost ready to work. I went toward the counter to order coffee.
He stood in front of me. An old friend of mine from the church Jen and I used to attend. He works for the church. The church is 3 blocks from the Downtown Pearl Cup. Walking distance. Here he was 3 miles out of the way standing in front of me.
We talked about the great ways his church (Fellowship Church Downtown) is growing. The way they are connecting with the community. He told me how he is really focused on building connection among the people of his church. A purpose that’s been on my heart for my church home, Munger Place.
Years ago, my friend hopped off the American treadmill of “Do more, Earn more, Be more” and jumped on the path of “Be More, Serve More, Do More”. It was a huge leap of faith for him. He walked away from money, the path his family had expected him to travel and his idea of what life would look like.
We talked about his journey. How it’s never what he expected, yet it’s everything it’s supposed to be. He told me about the markers that were left along the way. Markers showed him the wisdom of his decision to go the way of his calling. Markers that serve as memorials. Markers that built his faith.
He talked about facing moments of change. Moments where we ask ourselves, “Are you sure about this? How in the world will that ever work?” Yet time and again, the markers show that change is the way forward.
Faith is the footstep that leads to change. Faith isn’t just believing something. It’s doing something you believe in. The memorial comes after we take the faith-filled footsteps. We don’t get to know before. That’s what faith is for. Stepping without knowing. We get to know after. By looking back at the memorials markers.
My friend shared a piece of wisdom about the memorial markers. It’s up to us to build them along the way. They provide clarity, meaning, insight and a sense of place (even if it’s the wrong place) . They help us understand how we’ve gotten where we are. They assure us of our path (or our need to change it). They inform us of where we need to go.
The difficult thing is knowing when to lay the marker. What is a significant enough moment? We don’t often know when a moment is meaningful until it has past.
Running into my friend after wandering Dallas for 40 minutes might mark a meaningless event. It might mark a decisive moment in my life. Much of the meaning will be defined by the memorial I build. The marker I leave behind.
I can build a memorial reminding me to listen to my intuition – even when it doesn’t make sense. One day I’ll doubt my intuition. I can look back on this memorial. It will remind me to believe. It will tell me, “Trust the whisper.” Then I can choose do something I believe in. I can take another footstep. That’s a memorial that can help me find the right path.
Is it time for you to take a faith-filled footstep?
- Dangerous (in a good way) (sethgodin.typepad.com)