“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.” – Robert Frost
“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’.” Jeremiah 6:16
The footsteps of poets and prophets tend to follow the same road. The ancient paths, the good ways where you find peace are too often the least traveled road.
A temporary pause in the chaos allowed a rare escape to where the sand was warm under my feet and the salty air brushed softly across my furrowed brow. In this quiet spot, my worries washed away as tiny shells pulled out to sea by the ebb and flow of undulating waves. The ocean considers the sweat from my brow insignificant compared to its vast expanse. Likewise, my momentary struggles are no more than a blink in the eternity God holds in His hand.
Arriving at this oasis, I was in need of a change of pace, a refocused direction, finding my center. Peering at the horizon gave cause to consider a bigger picture, God’s view. Retracing recent steps, I discovered crossroads that I had passed, not recognizing alternate paths. Some were grown over due to lack of footsteps, while I continued in muddy tracks of well-trodden trails.
So tightly wound with the business of the day, I allowed my right brain dominance to drown out the call of the creativity that burns in my soul, a passion that uncovers pathways to God’s higher ways. Searching for the narrow way less traveled, pondering what is good and Holy, I yearn to spend time in God’s presence, not handing Him a laundry list of “My” wants and supposed needs, but simply enjoying each other’s company.
Facts and figures continue to line the pathway like berries providing needed sustenance; however, I should not allow the bushes to impede my steps. The farther I travel, the more berry bushes fade into the distance; memories of mountains that now seem like molehills. At the end of my journey, I will look back over the turns in the road, the potholes where I stumbled, the ditches I fell into and the Lord’s footprints where He pulled me out of the mire. I will stand in the company of angels at His feet and I pray I will hear Him say, “Well done, my child”.
This is the path I choose to follow, that of poets and prophets, laboring here with heaven in mind. All else is time wasted if not focused on the goal instead of the dust below my feet.
Praying to find the way of peace,
Of the path less traveled.
And Blessed in Great Measure
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