It seems to me that few people walk their ways with deliberation, stopping every so often to delight in the seasons and in the simple, important, enduring things. Most of those I know are either rushing about blindly, almost headlong, or inching along, looking down. Both methods of progression are, in a spiritual sense, not progression at all, but symptoms of fear.No matter what has happened or what you fear will happen, you have to walk as though you were going somewhere—not in a hurry, not at a crawl, and certainly not running away from something toward you know not what.It cannot be said too often, or by too many people, that the path we follow must be taken a step at a time—never on the run, and never standing still, neither going backward nor marking time. Everyone hazards a guess at the future—his own, the future of those he loves, the future of the country and the world. Statisticians often come up with some amazing suggestions; so do computers; but no one really knows. Only He know, Who created this world in all its beauty, and our small selves, with it. And it's just as well that we don't know.
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