Notes on a compass with no needle

I'm standing in an open expanse, holding a compass with no needle. 

Who carries a compass with no needle?

Useless! 

Carrying a compass with no needle leads to circle-making in the sand. 

Round and round I go with no direction, no aim. 

Purposeless. 

Being tossed around by each wave that washes up to shore.

Where is my rudder? Where is my true north? 

Walking in the wind and sand, I look back to see that my footprints are being filled in as I walk.

There's no turning back, because there will be NO. WAY.

I look forward, still holding that useless compass with no needle. The sand swirling around my ankles. 

Where do I turn? 

What direction do I take?

I'm left with this empty compass in my hand. This useless instrument meant for guidance, but now just a burden to carry. 

To carry me to what? I do not know.

I want to be walking. But, to where?

I want to be going. Forward. Forward.

But with no destination in sight, I'm paralyzed in my own footprints. 

Palm outstretched, it only holds the needle-less compass. No more holding the promise of a dream fulfilled. But, holding the emptiness of a dream possibly swept away.

If I let go of it altogether, where will I be?

The weight may be lifted, but then the dream is really gone, and may not ever return.

Am I okay with that?

Am I okay with the fact that the dream may change, and I may never dream it in the same way again?

Will I be content with just Him? 

{linking up at The Weekend Brew}