Connect the Dots
One of the things that can steal our joy is the self-judgment that comes with the idea that we should’ve known.
This week I listened to a story from a woman who left a relationship that suddenly became unsafe. Not with a stranger, but with someone she had been seeing for about six months. That particular day, things turned dark, and in that moment she courageously walked away. She found a ride home, and Providence seemed to provide exactly what she needed, one step at a time.
I loved her story.
But what I loved most was something she said afterward.
“I saw a red dot here. I saw a red dot there. But until they formed a line, I couldn’t see it.”
He was very good at hiding who he really was.
We don’t always know until we have enough experience to recognize the pattern. We see one red dot...then another...but they don’t mean much until suddenly they do.
Several years ago, I discovered I had been married to a pedophile. The signs hadn’t formed a recognizable picture for me. I couldn’t see what I didn’t yet know how to see. Until I did. Until that last dot gave me the beginning of a gruesome picture.
But later, when someone entered our lives who was grooming my daughter, those dots connected almost immediately. The line appeared quickly, and because of that, my daughter stayed safe.
Sometimes I have to learn the same lesson more than once. Often it’s because I’ve doubted myself. Sometimes it’s because I genuinely see the good in people—even my former husband. I continue to grow and learn and practice. And I’ve never found a shortcut. We simply keep practicing.
That’s part of choosing a life of joy.
Joy isn’t about never making mistakes. It’s about choosing courage over comfort. It’s about keeping our hearts open through curiosity and compassion, even when life has given us reasons to close them.
I like the life I’ve built—joys and sorrows included. It’s rich in experience. There are still plenty of moments when I look ahead and think, I have no idea how to do what’s next.
So I take a deep breath.
I let my shoulders relax.
And I remember that not knowing isn’t failure. It’s simply where the next lesson begins.
Maybe that’s the gift of the dots.
We aren’t meant to see the whole picture all at once.
We only need enough light for the next step.
Years from now, we’ll look back and realize those scattered moments weren’t random after all. They were quietly becoming a line...a picture...a life.
So if you’re tempted to judge yourself because you “should have known,” perhaps offer yourself a little grace instead.
You were seeing the dots with the understanding you had at the time.
Trust that the next one will come.
And when it does, you’ll see what you couldn’t see before.
Because that’s how wisdom grows.
One dot at a time.
P.S. Just a reminder:
We don’t practice because we’re failing. We practice because we’re growing.