I was thinking recently about when my parents came to visit me in Lebanon last November. We decided to visit the Quedesha Valley, since it had many points of interest, such as the poet's house, Gibran Khalil Gibran. We got up the mountain towards Becharre a bit late, it was getting to be dusk. We began to see snow and a deep cloud enveloped us, causing us to see less through the dark of what was ahead. I knew the path. I had been there that August. My parents got nervous. Their questions started out from a place of impatience: When will we arrive to the hotel? ...and turned into a more concerned plea to turn around: Are you sure there is a hotel? We don't believe you. Do you really know where we are? I kept insisting I knew where we were and there would be a hotel appearing soon. Even in the dark and smog, I was certain of where we were. I wasn't going to let them give up, because I knew we were so close. Suddenly, after trying to ignore their constant pleas and questions, we turned a corner and the road began to straighten and we could see buildings approaching soon. I pointed to the hotel that would provide a sense of comfort in an unknown place. They began to relax and they understood I was right.
I began to think about how much I do this with God. There are multiple times in which I doubt if He's leading me in the right direction, but He knows where I am and where I want to go. He's telling me, "It's coming! Just trust me! I know it doesn't seem like it now, but it's there, just wait."