The intersection

Ever find yourself stopped in the middle of an intersection?

That moment when great opportunity, nerve-racking possibilities, life and death all crowd into a single breath—where one step in any direction could change everything.

And suddenly you’re left asking yourself: What do I do next?

Which direction do I move?

For me, when I hear the word INTERSECTION, I think of the one that drastically changed my life—the intersection where an accident took place and I lost my one and only mother.

One damaged road took away my ability to choose.

There was only one route. No options.

The outcome was loss—loss of life—right there at that crossing.

For a long time, I never wanted to pass it, drive by it, or even walk near it. That intersection, where two roads crossed, became a place where I froze—suspended in time, stripped of direction and choice. It felt as if the decision had been made for me.

Seasons changed.

Days continued.

Life kept moving.

And slowly, my frozen state began to melt.

I began to move, to heal, to think again. I could hear her words whispering to me, gently reminding me to breathe. I gasped for air—and that breath brought me back to life. It reminded me that I was still standing at the intersection.

But this time, something was different.

Time had passed.

Feeling had returned.

And with it, choice.

Now I stand here again, asking myself: What now?

Which road will I take?

Will I freeze and remain here, stuck in time?

Will I numb myself and fade away, hoping no one notices me standing still?

Will I live forever in the grief that once held me here?

Or will I embrace the pain—and begin to walk, one step at a time, down the road I choose?

I’m reminded of the verse: “I press toward the mark of the high calling.”

What is that high calling? I’m not entirely sure yet.

But I know this—it is not staying frozen.

So today, I choose to move forward.

I choose to take steps again.

I choose to walk past the intersection.

And now, I leave you with the same question.

Where are you standing still?

What intersection has life brought you to—one shaped by loss, fear, uncertainty, or pain? You don’t have to know the entire path ahead. You don’t have to be fearless. You don’t even have to be ready.

But at some point you will have to choose.

Not all at once.

Not perfectly.

Just one step.

Don’t remain frozen in a place you were never meant to live.

Don’t let grief, fear, or doubt convince you that standing still is safer than moving forward.

If you’re breathing, you’re still here.

If you’re still here, there is still purpose ahead.

So take the step.

Walk past the intersection.

And trust that movement—however slow—is still movement toward life.