The young woman sits in the corner, crying in a fetal position. She is alone, and the darkness that surrounds her mimics the gloom engulfing her heart. Her best friend died. The man she loves abandoned her. And to make matters worse, she has a dreadful suspicion that her beloved sister is dead.
“Hello darkness, I am ready to succumb,” she says.
As she recounts the events and how her once joyful life suddenly turned into ashes, she feels grief’s mighty force pulling her down like gravity.
Her song is dark. Her body posture denotes the cold she feels inside.
And yet, deep down inside, a glimmer of hope sparks as she remembers the words of a wise old friend: “When one can see no future, all one can do is the next right thing.”
The scene I describe above is not from a dramatic movie on the Hallmark channel. It is one of the many gems mined from the newest Disney fairy tale sequel, “Frozen 2.”
I watched the movie with my teenage daughters during their Christmas break. As a lover of animated films, I could not wait to see if the sequel was as good as the original feature. I was not disappointed. But more than a hefty dose of entertainment with its idyllic scenes and masterfully arranged soundtrack, Disney’s latest blockbuster offers dialogues that incite deep thoughts for its adult audience.
In the story, princess Ana was feeling lost and hopeless. Her world had crumbled in a sequence of catastrophic events. As the shadows of depression threatened to steal her joy and hope, the old troll’s advice echoed in her mind, making her get up and take one trembling step away from the dark cave where she was hiding.
And — of course — she did that singing.
“Take a step, step again. It is all that I can to do — the next right thing. I won’t look too far ahead. It’s too much for me to take. But break it down to this next breath. This next step. This next choice is one that I can make.”
Pair the lyrics with the masterful orchestra score by award-winning composer Christopher Beck and the scene made me pick up my little notebook to make a note for this column:
“When you don’t see the future – do the next right thing.”
The concept reminded me of a verse in one of my favorite passages in scriptures: Psalm 119.
The longest chapter of the Bible, featuring 176 verses, Psalm 119 is found in the middle of Scriptures and it focuses on the truth and power of God’s word and his character. The author of this psalm is unknown, but some scholars have suggested that it was written by Ezra, the scribe, after Israel’s return from the Babylonian captivity, and at the time the temple was rebuilt. Others attribute this psalm to King David, or possibly Daniel.
A well-known verse is in the middle of the psalm: “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.”
The metaphor used in this verse is pregnant with meaning when one understands its context. In Old Testament times, travelers would carry a small oil lamp, the dim light only enough to guide their next step. These types of lamps could not reveal the traveler’s surroundings; therefore, he could not see what was far ahead of him. All he could see was his next step.
What a marvelous picture of the life of faith!
Just as the traveler of old depended on a flicker of light to direct his journey into the darkness, we may sometimes find ourselves unsettled by the uncertainty of the future. It may be that, because we cannot see ahead, we allow confusion to settle to the point of paralyzing us. Or we may find ourselves like princess Ana, curled in a corner as doubts and fear of the future threaten to engulf us.
“I don’t know what to do,” you may think.
If that is you today, consider that God may have you in that position to draw you closer to him. And as he sheds light into your darkness, even if it’s only enough light for one single step, I encourage you to get up, step forward in obedience and trust and simply do the next right thing.
Patricia Holbrook is a columnist, author, blogger and international speaker. Visit her website www.soaringwithHim.com. For speaking engagements and comments, email pholbrook@soaringwithHim.com