Hidden

There are times when one knows that the obvious just isn’t.  In a tragedy one knows the process of recovery will take longer than anyone predicts.  The knowledge does not usually prevent or shorten the time required for the process to run its course.  It is as if the true knowledge of what happens is hidden from everyone involved.  Frankly, bluntly, I think we know the facts with our head but the process of recovery is one of discovering truth with our hearts.  Nothing is hidden yet the process itself is far more difficult than the simple facts might suggest.
 
As a poor example, I know that I have a mission.  I understand others must walk their paths, own the decisions in their lives, and discover their identity with each other and God.  The link between my mission is their walk is simple; I am here to help in anyway that I can and stay out of the way if help isn’t possible.  Connect the two and the process is linking everyone up should be simple.  It isn’t.  All kinds of challenges, obstacles, and roadblocks get in the way!  Granted many of them are of my own making but that isn’t the point. 
 
The “truth” of the situation often remains obscure, vague, and gray.  I find myself wondering what I am supposed to do; yet on a clear day it is obvious.  I wonder aloud at the time it takes to accomplish specific goals; forgetting how God worries about the process and path of our lives and not how far we make it to the destination.  I even discover I have left the path, apparently tossing aside mission and purpose, even forgetting that coming back to the path is already baked into the details.
 
When I am open to knowing the truth, someone in my life plays a critical role.  Metaphorically it was “one of them—it was Caiaphas, the designated Chief Priest that year—spoke up, ‘Don't you know anything?’”  (John 11.49)
 
The facts are here but the question remains answered.  Do you or I?