Bridge to a Distant Star - Carolyn Williford [113]
Sarah lovingly put an arm around Michal’s shoulders and pointed upward. “Look at all those stars. Beautiful, aren’t they?”
Curious where this object lesson was going, Michal mumbled, “Mmm, sure are.”
“There’s this fascinating phenomena called averted vision. Notice how when you try to stare directly at the more faint stars you can’t really see them? It’s like … when you try to look directly at them, they disappear.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed that before.”
“Pick one of those stars. Shift your sight back ’n’ forth, looking directly at it and then away from it. What do you notice about your peripheral vision?”
“I can see it again. Just barely, but it’s definitely there. That’s weird.”
“Sometimes, Michal, discovering God’s will is like looking at a star. Instead of staring directly at him, you need to pay more attention to your peripheral vision.”
“Okay. So … explain what you mean by that.”
“There are so many evidences around you to help make decisions. Like the people in your life. Like chapel speakers. Or maybe not.” She grinned mischievously and Michal shook her head. “Others might be professors. Friends too—special girlfriends. And sometimes … sometimes it’s even those creatures from another planet entirely—males. Ha.” Michal laughed at her. “Other evidences are what you’re studying and praying about. Your gifts from the Holy Spirit. Talents and interests you have. And there are the myriad of experiences happening around you—don’t overlook those either. See, all these evidences are hovering, and they can help you know God’s will for your life.”
“Wise aunts included in the list?”
“Possibly.” Sarah winked, but was instantly serious again. “The point is, Michal, all those things in your peripheral vision, so to speak, are there to inform you too. They’re like a … like a …” She groped for the right words to portray her meaning. “Like a mine, I guess. With veins of gold. You need to seek them out … see what their value is to help you make the major decisions of life.”
“Aunt Sarah, you know something I’ve never told Mom and Dad? Something I would love to do?” Michal ventured.
“What’s that?”
“Be a teacher. I’ve always wanted to teach children, ever since I can remember.” Her eyes filled with tears, blurring the stars. “But in a regular classroom with bright posters all over the walls. The ABCs along the top of the blackboard.” She grew more animated with each addition. “The children’s desks grouped in bunches … with welcome signs on each one. Signs I made out of all colors of construction paper.”
Sarah folded Michal into a tighter hug. “You know, I’ve often wondered when a hope becomes an expectation. Hope starts out innocent enough. And then it slides all too easily into the other. Happens to all of us, I’m afraid. But at the same time, there’s another voice you must listen to—what your heart’s telling you. Listen to your own mind and heart. God will speak to you there, too. He’s in the business of matching passions with gifts. Desires of the heart with answers to prayer.”
They turned to gaze up into the sky again.
“Those two young men you were telling me about?”
Michal knew her aunt would give her wise advice about Stephen and Allistair. Was eager to hear which one she approved of.
“Your heart will give you that answer, too.”
“But which one—?”
Sarah shook her head. “Oh now, darlin’ Michal. This is more exciting than reading the most exciting novel ever. My saying anything would take all the fun out of watchin’ you choose.”
They laughed, holding onto each other as though one couldn’t stand without the other’s support.
Saying good-bye the next morning was wrenchingly difficult for both. Tears filled Michal’s eyes, but Sarah skillfully directed her attention away from the separation toward the excitement of finishing her second semester, pointing out she’d soon be a sophomore rather than a mere