Which Way Do I Go?

This is what the Lord says: “Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls. But you said, “We will not walk in it.” – Jeremiah 6:16

I have a friend, Dave, who lives in Washington state. He’s a wonderful writer and though we’ve never met face to face, we’ve forged a great friendship via email. He recently told me he was heading into the mountains of Washington to seek out a unique ice cave. Feeling a bit envious, I said, “Write me everything you see. I’ve never seen ice caves before.”

What does he do? Exactly that. He gets home from his venture, sits down and then writes me every tiny detail about the trip. I leaned back in my chair and carefully soaked in every step he took. I felt the cold, damp oxygen that he described “as breathing in liquid air”. It was wonderful, exciting, breathtaking even. When I found the bottom of the page, I lifted my heart toward the Father and said, “Shish, God. What will You think of next?”

Dave told me about a foot bridge that had washed away by heavy flooding. The ice caverns were just across the river that the bridge would have accessed. Suddenly there’s a decision to make. Try to walk across the water on logs and rocks or stay on the safety of the pathway and only observe what the caverns might look like.

I thought to myself, “Isn’t that just my luck?” I get within feet of the caverns and then can’t get to them. I have to wonder how often God tells me to look for the path – even ask where it lies, and then to follow. What do I do? I get the instructions, make my way to the entrance of the path, and stop dead. Refuse to enter because I may know a better way.

What is this innate desire we harbor to see the perfect route before us and then choose to do an about face? I snicker to myself, “I guess I’m a glutton for pain, God.” I have yet to learn that God won’t lead me down a wrong road. He finds no pleasure in tripping me up. It’s a trust issue, I suppose. If I would only believe Him when He lifts His finger and points the direction, life would be so much easier. Still, I have to step past Him and choose the opposite way.

You see, Dave took me on a trip to the mountains in Washington state. I’ve never been there, Don’t have a clue of the beauty that rises majestically over the west coast. He painted this detailed, step-by-step, scent filled, cold, adventure in my head, but he never got to tell me about the ice caverns. Why? Because when the pathway lay before him, he chose to listen. He’d catch the caverns next go around – the bridge and the path leading into their splendor was washed away today. I have to wonder, if I stood staring at that same way, would I have trusted enough to wait or would I have ventured down the road alone, oblivious to the danger?

So God tells me, “There are other days, other adventures that are better for you to see. Trust me.” I hang my head, a bit frustrated and a lot disappointed, that the road was not prepared. Still the Father pats me on the shoulder and smiles a coy smile. “Later, sweetie. I have other things for you to see first.” I turn away and kick an imaginary stone, pout just a bit, then follow His lead. Next time I may see the ice caverns.

Prayer: Father, choices are hard and skewed with obstacles I cannot always see. Help me to trust