Jumping off the train

I imagine myself on a moving train but knowing I need to get off before the next stop. I fear jumping because I know it will hurt. But I fear even more staying on the train because the place we are passing is where I am supposed to be. Because I know I need to get off, and because I know I may be too afraid to jump, I make jumping a must by throwing my suitcase off. As I see it bounce and tumble into the bushes next to the track, I grab the edges of the door and ready myself to follow. 

That is where I am at this moment. I believe I need to get off the train - whatever it is: comfort, predictability, or even a certain status earned over decades of leadership in my church. I need to tumble in the dirt and weeds and start anew. Or start something new. I *am* afraid. The unknown is just so.....unknown. There are too few answers and too many questions needing them. Still, I sense that this is where I am to be, this is where I am to jump. 

I have thrown my suitcase off the train by publicly announcing that I am about to jump. By talking this last Sunday with the young adults group at the church, describing what I am about to do. And on Sunday, May 1, my plans will be made known to the whole congregation. If for no other reason than to save face, I must then jump. But it is more than saving face. It is seeking God's face and following his call. Here come the bumps and bruises. I pray I also find a path among the bushes and weeds.