The Pivot: Feet Follow the Light
The Pivot: Stepping Out on Faith: A Note from One SisterFriend to Another
As this three-part April series on The Pivot comes to a close, I find myself reflecting on what it has asked of us: courage, honesty, and trust. We began by honoring the brave first step. We continued by speaking about what was true. Now, we are invited to keep moving forward, even when the whole way is not yet clear.
There is something sacred about trusting the next step before the full path appears. The invitation is not to have every answer, but to remain open to what is unfolding, to what calls gently, and to the quiet moments that ask us to move.
And when those moments come, may your feet follow the light.
With love,
Belinda
SisterFriend Reflection: The Pivot: Feet Follow the Light
”Hope is a song in a weary throat.”
—Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray
After we speak the truth out loud, after we name what has been stirring with us, there comes another sacred moment. It is the moment when we begin to
move. Not all at once. Not perfectly. Just enough to honor what we know.
It is putting one foot in front of the other, even when you cannot see very far ahead. A light appears, inviting you to follow. It’s a light that leads you towards something. That “something” is influenced by your words, your instincts, and your ability to trust yourself in the middle of uncertainty. We do not need to see the whole way forward to begin. We only need enough light for the next step.
The light does not appear the same way to each of us. It may come as a quiet knowing, a nudge, a moment of clarity, or an invitation we almost overlook. It meets us where we are and calls us forward in ways that are uniquely our own.
What I am learning is that the light is not only something ahead of us. It also reflects on us. It touches what is already within us and brings it into view. The light leads, but it also bounces off of you.
I wrote a few lines last Thursday, and one has stayed with me:
feet follow the light.
On my way to Union Station in New Haven, Connecticut, I struck up a conversation with another Black woman who was also traveling. She was headed to catch an Amtrak to Washington, D. C., while I was planning to take Metro-North into New York. In the middle of our conversation, she offered to share her Uber to the station. It was a small moment—an ordinary decision. And yet, I followed what I can only describe as a quiet nudge and accepted her invitation. That simple choice shifted more than I expected.
I made it to the station early enough to catch an earlier train home, which felt like a gift in itself. An unexpected blessing from a stranger. But more than that, we attended the same national conference sponsored by Yale University’s Center for Public Theology and Public Policy. Our conversation opened into shared interests, shared commitments, and a shared concern for the public good.
Before parting, we exchanged digital cards and promised to stay in touch.
I do not know what will come of that connection. Maybe nothing. And yet, maybe something. What I do know is this: had I not followed that quiet nudge, had I not let my feet follow the light, I might have missed the possibility of connection, alignment, and community forming in an unexpected place.
That day, the light looked like a conversation.
It sounded like an invitation.
It felt like a blessing.
If you find yourself standing at the intersection between knowing and moving, trust the light that has come to you.
And when you are ready, may your feet follow it.
Purpose Meets Strategy (Take 10 Minutes)
Stay open this week.
The light does not always arrive the way we expect.
It may come through a conversation, an invitation, or a moment you could easily pass by.
Pay attention to what gently draws your attention.
Notice what lingers. Trust what feels quietly true.
Be willing to make a move.
May you stay open to the light that meets you along the way.
May you notice it in the unexpected moments.
May your feet follow you to new and exciting places.
If this reflection resonates with you, share it with a SisterFriend who might need it today.