A fog settled over her path, and she soon heard water rushing past her. She questioned each footstep, tested each stone, looked for easier routes. The sun hid behind thick clouds. She couldn't see, and she was paralyzed with fear. What if she stepped wrong? What if the fog made the stones slick, and she fell? She imagined the stones crossing a mighty river, and she began to tremble.
Cautiously she reached one foot out, groping for a stone. Scared of falling, she stood still, shivering and scared. Staying there far too long, she finally decided that she needed to do something, so she reached her foot out and placed it down again. A stone! She did this again and again, finally almost running across the steps. Exhilarated, she gave up on worry and trusted that the path before her would be secure; trusted that God would place stones before her.
The fog lifted and she looked around in wonder. The sound of water that she had heard proved to be a calm, trickling stream. She looked down and the steps were large and sure, and she knew that her King, the master path-layer, had been in perfect control the whole time. If only it was easier to remember this while in the fog.
Over and out,