When I am afraid, frustrated.

When I am uncertain.

I ask for clarity.

Not certainty.

Clarity.

I’ve learned I can’t demand it.

It’s not transactional.

It’s not a button I press.

I can make the request.

Honestly.

Humbly.

With open hands.

When I do,

there’s a pattern.

The answer doesn’t come in comfort.

It comes in a test.

A willingness test.

Not labeled.

Not explained.

Offered.

An indicated action offered.

Usually wrapped in the exact thing

I didn’t want to face.

A person I was resisting.

An idea I thought I was above.

A direction I didn’t want to follow.

The test is:

Will I fit myself to what’s indicated?

or

Will I continue to try to get it to fit me?

Can I follow what’s being shown

even when it confronts my preferences?

Even when it comes at the cost of my pride?

The clarity is there.

It’s inconvenient.

Uncomfortable.

Unflattering.

The question is never:

Do I understand it?

It’s:

Am I willing to follow it?

That’s what I’ve learned:

A clarity request is followed

by a willingness test.

Clarity comes in the form of a direction.

The test is if I will follow it.