Last night, Pete called on his way home from work and suggested that the girls and I meet him at Chili’s for our monthly performance review. Obviously, this left us with two cars at the restaurant, meaning we each had to drive our own car after supper, out of the lit up neighborhood and into the deep, dark forest that we call home. I was not excited. I don’t see well in the dark, which makes driving at night an issue, especially considering that our forest has no street lights (which we love, because the stars are amazing). So Pete encouraged me to follow him, assuring me that I’d be fine.I was pretty anxious, especially once we got out of civilization. But I kept my feeble little eyes on his taillights, not concerning myself with street signs or curves in the road. After a few minutes, I stopped clutching the steering wheel and sitting forward in my seat. I didn’t stop watching those taillights, but I did relax. I might have even smiled. Because I know that my husband is absolutely trustworthy. I know that he was watching me in his rearview mirror, making sure I didn’t fall too far behind. He wanted to be sure that I always knew where he was, and where he was headed, and he wanted me to come along for the ride.
We’ve been driving in the dark for a few years now, particularly the last fifteen months or so. And I’ve been anxious, faithless, too blind to see the road ahead. But Pete has been there, right in front, leading me in the path that God’s laying out for us. Sometimes it seems that road is being built brick by brick just ahead of Pete’s toes. But if Pete is scared, he’s not showing it. He’s moving ahead with confidence, and reaching behind to make sure I’m coming along.