David says "you will show me" — future tense, confident. Not "I hope you'll show me" or "please show me." Will. Which means David was writing this without currently seeing the path. He was, in that moment, between directions. Uncertain. And yet certain of one thing: the showing would come.

"In your presence is fullness of joy" — this is the line that rewrites the whole Western definition of success. We've been told joy is in achievement. In accumulation. In arriving. But David says joy is in presence. Proximity. Nearness. Which means you can have nothing figured out — no five-year plan, no clear direction, no clean answer to "what do you do?" — and still have access to fullness. Because fullness isn't a function of clarity. It's a function of closeness.

If you're lost right now, consider the possibility that the confusion isn't a detour. It's the stripping away of false destinations. The career you were chasing because your parents wanted it. The relationship you maintained because being alone felt worse. The version of success you adopted because everyone around you seemed to be pursuing it. The lostness might be the path — the uncomfortable, disorienting, essential process of losing everything that was never really yours so you can find the one thing that is. And that thing isn't a place. It's a presence. And the presence is already here.