That Eyes-Closed Kind of Clarity

"Sometimes we want greater clarity when what we need is deeper trust." Ann Voskamp

I came across this quote today from one of my favorite writers in the midst of a week and month loaded with big decisions - some of which have deadlines breathing down my neck.

Tomorrow, by 6 p.m. I have to turn in my rental car that the insurance company has been paying for. I have a few friends and some family members enlisted to help me find a car this weekend, but if I don't find a car by Monday morning, I don't know how I'll get to work.

The task of finding a car that fits the budget in the day and age of the internet is not a large challenge. Finding THE VEHICLE that is going to represent this season in the way Charlee represented the last season? That's a whole other ballgame.

This is unfamiliar territory for me. Seven years ago, I didn't even know I was going to go car shopping until that file folder was sitting on the counter in front of me with four options to choose from, and thirty minutes later Dad was driving us to the first dealership. He guided me through the process and handled the payment. Now, it's up to me. I've narrowed down options, climbed in and out of a number of cars, test-driven one model that I liked so much I wanted to go on a road trip immediately, but now I have to find the actual vehicle to buy and talk to the credit union about loans and interest rates and, at the end of the day no matter how many friends tag along, I will be forking over the money this time.

Clarity seems so much more functional than trust. If I just knew exactly what to do and how to do it, this process would be so much smoother. I wouldn't get lost and drive in circles around this decision. 

I know last week I wrote, "Be still, tender soul. You are not alone. Your needs have always been met, and this time will be no exception." My head knows this is true. Yet, in the less analytical organs of my body, chaotic distrust reigns. It seems as though no matter how many times my needs are met, I can never fully trust all will be well this time - not on the cellular level, that is. Even if my mouth speaks brave words, the pinches of tension gripping the top of my shoulders and the shallow breaths emanating from my lungs tell a different story.

I want a clear path - to know exactly how much I should spend on this new vehicle, and what qualifications it should meet. I'd like an indefinite amount of time to search out the one that exactly fits this season (color and all), test drive, and make sure it has all the features I need before gracefully completing the transaction.

It feels like things would be so much easier if I could open my eyes wide enough to know it all. Maybe, just maybe, that's a bit backwards. Maybe I'd be less overwhelmed if I shut them for a few minutes, looking upward instead of outward and inward. In blocking out all of the options until I can hear the beat of my own heart clearly, I might finally allow myself to be moved by the harmony of logic and intuition woven together by soul and spirit and Spirit. This, I believe, is the true clarity, found only through the corridor of trust.