Last Monday, I walked across the stage of the National Cathedral and received my diploma. Behind me, beyond the choir area of the massive, beautiful Episcopalian cathedral, a holy wall lined with past saints looked on as I completed one journey and moved irrevocably into the future.

What's next for me? I wish I could say for certain, beyond "serving Christ unto the ends of the earth." My wife and I are expecting our first child around June 10. I need to finish my ordination requirements and be ordained sometime later this summer. Beyond that, I don't know. The date of September 1 seems to be the key moment where what I know of my future becomes gray.

I did have a different image of what this time would look like. I figure God would have easily opened another door, and I would have continued to waltz on into what is next. I did not anticipate this time of waiting, this sort of desert time, halfway between the past and future. It's rather uncomfortable, but it's where I am.

I have some prospects. I have some ideas. I am eager to do whatever I am called to do, whether it is church revitalization, new church planting, campus ministry, regional ministry, or even non-profit work. That's part of the problem. With a future sort of wide open, what do I do? Where does God want me? I don't want to wait anymore.

I'm staring into space.

But maybe this space isn't so much of a void as it is one good breath and rest before I take that next step into the future with those smiling saints cheering me on.