(Part 1 of a 5-blog series; click here for more: part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5)
I’ve started working out again - more than just the sporadic core-strength intervals I’ve done in the past weeks. I’m four & a half months postpartum after our 7th baby, and so it’s a minor triumph that I’ve finally laced up my old running shoes & hit the road. I doubt that my body parts will ever fully recover from being pregnant with, giving birth to, & nursing our 7 children...but I’m trying. And to be honest, the half hour of walking & brief attempts at running is more about talking with God than getting my body back anyway.
It’s mid-June in the Rockies, so the weather is perfect: sunny, breezy, azure blue skies, and a crisp 65-75 degrees that beckons everyone outdoors. Feels like everyone in the state is heading to the National Forest behind our property. The brown road that leads away from our small rural subdivision is fairly smooth & well-traveled at this time of year, but not paved, and I quickly grew weary of breathing in the road dust kicked up by the SUV’s & trailers, trucks & motor homes. I trudged on, knowing that the spectacular view just around the bend would be my reward.
I like to think that I meet God out there, that I hear His voice in the wind blowing across the open fields, breathe in His glory ricocheting between the majestic face of Pikes Peak & the faraway symmetrical beauty of the Collegiates. But today I was irritated by the interruption of summertime travelers and vacationers, on Rampart Range Road.
I headed back, thinking I might turn off at the old forest-service road that leads to a path toward the back of our property. But as always, apprehensive thoughts filled my mind: what if I encountered that brown bear we’d seen hanging around, what if I turned my bad ankle on the rough trail, what if I didn’t recognize my way...? Another truck roared past me, the boat trailer behind it leaving a wake of sand & dust for me to choke on. That did it.
Finally off the sandy road, I found that my footing seemed a bit more secure, the canopy of Pines & Aspens provided a welcome relief from the intense high-altitude sun. Yellow & purple wildflowers were everywhere, brushing my legs, mingled with the high, green & brown grass. The rich, extravagant smell of hot pine needles filled my soul. I picked my way over the rough trail & started talking with God. No, I didn’t hear His audible voice, but it’s just this sorta out-loud prayer thing I do, where I’m praying to Him...but also trying to open my soul & mind to His leading & speaking, so that the words He wants me to hear will come from Him, outta my mouth. Does that make sense? Maybe not so much...
But anyway, I was kinda talking with God, and praying for His guidance, presence, that sort of thing. Prayed that Jesus would be so present in our home, in my marriage. Prayed that Jesus would give me courage to take this rough path, to help me navigate the way home, despite my insecurity & apprehension. And then I felt like He started kinda talking back to me - y’know, through my own praying.
And I felt like He put these praying words in my mouth: “Lord, help me to have the courage to get off the busy road, to leave the common way, to dare a journey that so few traverse; give me strength & perseverance to take this rougher path, this road-less-traveled.” And then the real revelation came: “Jesus, help me to take this trail, ...that...Kevin...already...forged...” Oh.
I am pulled toward the uncommon path, but I’m afraid. It seems...I don’t know...dangerous, risky, rough, dirty. The road is just – easier. Easier to navigate. Easier to find my way; the way everyone else is going, the way that some government highway department created. But the road-less-traveled is so intriguing, so inspiring, so worshipful, so risky. And my husband went ahead for me, and forged a path. He has led our family, many a time, up the hill to the National Forest, thru the wooded valley, out onto the spacious, open bald atop Rampart Range. We’ve even marked spots along the trail; a boulder here to mark the left turn, a trail of rocks that margin the turnoff for our property. And still I’ve been afraid?
And so I begin to see. Maybe, just a bit of clarity. That God is leading me, ever pulling me towards an uncommon path, a journey that will be rougher, riskier, scary, but resplendent with His reward. And I don’t have to navigate it alone. He has called my husband to go before me; he has led Kevin to forge the path, to guide the children and me, into a place of beauty & adventure & faithwalking. On the road less traveled.
(Part 1 of a 5-blog series; click here for more: part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5)
I’ve started working out again - more than just the sporadic core-strength intervals I’ve done in the past weeks. I’m four & a half months postpartum after our 7th baby, and so it’s a minor triumph that I’ve finally laced up my old running shoes & hit the road. I doubt that my body parts will ever fully recover from being pregnant with, giving birth to, & nursing our 7 children...but I’m trying. And to be honest, the half hour of walking & brief attempts at running is more about talking with God than getting my body back anyway.
It’s mid-June in the Rockies, so the weather is perfect: sunny, breezy, azure blue skies, and a crisp 65-75 degrees that beckons everyone outdoors. Feels like everyone in the state is heading to the National Forest behind our property. The brown road that leads away from our small rural subdivision is fairly smooth & well-traveled at this time of year, but not paved, and I quickly grew weary of breathing in the road dust kicked up by the SUV’s & trailers, trucks & motor homes. I trudged on, knowing that the spectacular view just around the bend would be my reward.
I like to think that I meet God out there, that I hear His voice in the wind blowing across the open fields, breathe in His glory ricocheting between the majestic face of Pikes Peak & the faraway symmetrical beauty of the Collegiates. But today I was irritated by the interruption of summertime travelers and vacationers, on Rampart Range Road.
I headed back, thinking I might turn off at the old forest-service road that leads to a path toward the back of our property. But as always, apprehensive thoughts filled my mind: what if I encountered that brown bear we’d seen hanging around, what if I turned my bad ankle on the rough trail, what if I didn’t recognize my way...? Another truck roared past me, the boat trailer behind it leaving a wake of sand & dust for me to choke on. That did it.
Finally off the sandy road, I found that my footing seemed a bit more secure, the canopy of Pines & Aspens provided a welcome relief from the intense high-altitude sun. Yellow & purple wildflowers were everywhere, brushing my legs, mingled with the high, green & brown grass. The rich, extravagant smell of hot pine needles filled my soul. I picked my way over the rough trail & started talking with God. No, I didn’t hear His audible voice, but it’s just this sorta out-loud prayer thing I do, where I’m praying to Him...but also trying to open my soul & mind to His leading & speaking, so that the words He wants me to hear will come from Him, outta my mouth. Does that make sense? Maybe not so much...
But anyway, I was kinda talking with God, and praying for His guidance, presence, that sort of thing. Prayed that Jesus would be so present in our home, in my marriage. Prayed that Jesus would give me courage to take this rough path, to help me navigate the way home, despite my insecurity & apprehension. And then I felt like He started kinda talking back to me - y’know, through my own praying.
And I felt like He put these praying words in my mouth: “Lord, help me to have the courage to get off the busy road, to leave the common way, to dare a journey that so few traverse; give me strength & perseverance to take this rougher path, this road-less-traveled.” And then the real revelation came: “Jesus, help me to take this trail, ...that...Kevin...already...forged...” Oh.
I am pulled toward the uncommon path, but I’m afraid. It seems...I don’t know...dangerous, risky, rough, dirty. The road is just – easier. Easier to navigate. Easier to find my way; the way everyone else is going, the way that some government highway department created. But the road-less-traveled is so intriguing, so inspiring, so worshipful, so risky. And my husband went ahead for me, and forged a path. He has led our family, many a time, up the hill to the National Forest, thru the wooded valley, out onto the spacious, open bald atop Rampart Range. We’ve even marked spots along the trail; a boulder here to mark the left turn, a trail of rocks that margin the turnoff for our property. And still I’ve been afraid?
And so I begin to see. Maybe, just a bit of clarity. That God is leading me, ever pulling me towards an uncommon path, a journey that will be rougher, riskier, scary, but resplendent with His reward. And I don’t have to navigate it alone. He has called my husband to go before me; he has led Kevin to forge the path, to guide the children and me, into a place of beauty & adventure & faithwalking. On the road less traveled.
(Part 1 of a 5-blog series; click here for more: part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5)
