Our identities were formed in the waters of a fast-moving river beyond our own choosing or creating. And when we leave this world, the river still moves on. Maybe, like Moses, we’ll look toward the future and realize it’s out of our hands; and we’ll hope and pray that the ones we leave behind will be ok. There will come a time for letting go. Letting go. The next chapter won’t be ours to write. It belongs to someone else.
And we can’t know how it will turn out.