To be or not to be

"'Oh, Trees, Trees, Trees,' said Lucy (though she had not been intending to speak at all). 'Oh, Trees, wake, wake, wake. Don't you remember it? Don't you remember me? Dryads and Hamadryads, come out, come to me.'

Though there was not a breath of wind they all stirred about her. The rustling noise of the leaves was almost like words. The nightingale stopped singing as if to listen to it.

Lucy felt that at any moment she would begin to understand what the trees were trying to say. But the moment did not come. The rustling died away. The nightingale resumed its song. Even in the moonlight the wood looked more ordinary again. Yet Lucy had the feeling (as you sometimes have when you are trying to remember a name or a date and almost get it, but it vanishes before you really do) that she had just missed something: as if she had spoken to the trees a split second too soon or a split second too late, or used all the right words except one, or put in one word that was just wrong." CS Lewis - Prince Caspian

It feels like I've been handed some promises; that things are waiting in the wings to change, happen and breakthrough in my life. Yet they never quite seem to. I am not sure if this is because the time is not quite right, or there is something that I need to do to kick them in to touch. I'm wondering if the problem is that I'm looking for a code? Some secret form of words that unlocks God's plan. That tells me what I want to know and gets me to where I want to be.

Every time I enquire or push the answer seems to be the same. It is not my place to be making the big plans. I need to be be faithful in small things and the rest will fall into place. "Live the good that you know and leave the rest up to me". But this feels wrong to me. So passive.

There are questions which I don't have the answer to which I cannot seem to escape from. There are places where my choices are not clear - contradictory paths neither of which has the monopoly on rightness or goodness, but which cannot both be taken.

One of these at least finds me oscilating. Not doing enough in either direction to make any difference - but with no clear guidance as to what I should choose. The echo of my own heart and reflection tells me the more difficult path is right - but will not lead where I want to go. Set against it the guidance of my friends who tell me the path is closed. So I am left with an internal debate. Is it a case of the foolisness of path one against the wisdom of path two (where foolishness is God's path) or the dead past of path one against the living future of path two (where the future is God's path)?

Hamlet's words seem profound at this point. To be, or not to be? That is indeed the question! Yet the middle state of neither being or not being seems to be the hardest place of all.