Confirmation

I am not ready to resume the series, but I keep thinking of other things that might make good posts. I especially keep thinking of something that happened Saturday that clearly I need to write about.

If my blogging ends up being more disjointed than I like now, it is only reflective of my life. I nearly said "random", but that wouldn't be quite right.

Last week was really hard, and I needed to get out of the house Saturday. I did not have a clear plan for it, which can really make getting out harder, even just getting started. That was a partly due to constantly remembering other things to do (The laundry! The dog!), but a bigger problem was feeling really indecisive on what to do.

My only clear objectives were that I needed to have some time away and that I wanted to eat Chinese food. That gave me a lot of possibilities, but none of them felt quite right for various reasons.

The idea I kept rejecting was to go to Lloyd Center and eat at the food court there. In terms of quality, convenience, and novelty, it was really the least interesting option, though it was not terrible on price. Everything that seemed like it should have been better had other objections though. Finally after false starts and missing at least one bus that either seemed early or the next one was late, that was where I ended up.

At the precise moment that I was getting to the entrance, a man came out carrying a small bag of cans and started looking in the garbage can by the entrance. I thought I should give him something, but hesitated and he disappeared into the parking garage. Then I was quite sure I should help him. He had only gone in search of the next can, and I found him and gave him $5.

He said, "Thank you. I can eat tonight."

I am pretty sure that meant that he had not eaten the previous night.

I stayed in front of the entrance for a while, thinking about the odds of my encountering him. Even on the train I had been thinking about which stop to use. Before some of the more recent construction, we always got off at 7th and entered by the Stanford's, but I had specifically decided to cut through the park on my way in, and then catch the train at 7th on my way back.

It left me with the question of whether all of the indecision and delays and reminders was all so that he could eat that night.

I am quite sure that my other possible destinations all had the potential to help someone. I also know that there had to be hundreds of people at the mall, some of whom surely could have spared a little cash or bought a meal or something.

I was trying to figure that out, and the first thought was that perhaps the point is not so much how and why I ended up there but what I did when there. That could be reassuring, but I have been in a questioning state of mind lately (you should see my journal; so many question marks) and I kept pushing.

There was guidance beyond getting there, even if it was just to give him the money. That is important to me because I have been worrying pretty regularly about whether I am doing the right things or missing things.

Even accepting that I am getting guidance on the small things, what about the big things? The things that really worry me? Then it kind of felt like maybe the guidance comes from the same place, regardless of the size of the issue, followed by the eye-rolling book title Don't sweat the small stuff (and it's all small stuff).

The last time I got a blessing it specifically referenced 1 Nephi 3, and being led without knowing beforehand what you will do. Since I had been specifically praying about the not knowing, it was not exactly the reassurance that I wanted, but probably what I needed, or what I can have at this time.

I have thought about that a lot since then. Part of that path for Nephi included killing a guy - probably not in my future, but I don't know - and that uncertainty remains frustrating. I had realized some time ago that often when you think you know what is coming, you are wrong, but there is still some comfort in having an idea.

The only answer I really have is to continue to listen, and stay close. It's not everything that I hoped for, but it has the room to contain my hopes in it.