I Did Not Turn Off the Light

Our best decisions are not always the ones we think through the most.

Sometimes, they are the ones we eventually stop thinking about and simply begin to live.

I have made decisions that came after careful consideration. I weighed the possibilities, considered the consequences, listened to counsel and arrived at what seemed like the most sensible thing to do.

And then there are the decisions that make you fight yourself.

Decisions where your head makes its case.

Your heart makes another.

Reason tells you to walk away.

Hope asks you to wait.

And somewhere in between, you find yourself standing still, exhausted from the argument within.

I have had one of those.

I fought myself to a standstill.

I questioned the wisdom of continuing. I considered whether walking away would be easier, cleaner, more sensible. I examined what I was feeling, what I was doing, what I hoped for and whether hope itself was becoming an excuse.

There were enough reasons to leave.

Yet I did not.

Not because I had certainty.

I did not.

Not because I had guarantees.

I had none.

And certainly not because everything suddenly became clear.

It did not.

I simply could not bring myself to turn off the light.

Even when it became dim.

There is something to be said for that kind of decision.

We often imagine faith as a grand leap into the unknown, but sometimes faith is much quieter.

Sometimes it is refusing to close a door simply because you cannot yet see what is beyond it.

Sometimes it is allowing something to remain possible.

Not insisting that it must happen.

Not forcing it to happen.

Just refusing to declare it impossible.

I have learnt that not every decision needs the comfort of certainty before it can be made.

Some decisions are made with questions still unanswered.

Some are made while the heart is still trembling.

Some are made after every argument has been exhausted and something within us still says, not yet.

Perhaps the wisdom was not in knowing how this would end.

Perhaps it was in knowing that I did not need to decide the ending today.

So I stayed.

Not blindly.

Not without battles.

Not without moments when I almost convinced myself that walking away was the wiser thing.

I stayed with the light.

Even dim.

And perhaps that is what some journeys require.

Not certainty.

Not guarantees.

Just enough courage not to switch off the light while there is still something worth seeing.

Nugget

Some of our most important decisions are not made because we know how the story ends.

They are made because, after all the wrestling, we still cannot bring ourselves to turn off the light.