Pursue some path, however narrow and crooked, in which you can walk with love and reverence. ~Henry David Thoreau
A new path. Freshly disturbed wildness stirs an unnamed longing. Open meadow, shaded, tangled woods beckon us to leave the known, the obvious, the well-travelled ways, and claim with confidence what others fear.
There is treasure to be found by those willing to leave behind the safe and familiar.
Yet the undertow of safe and familiar is not easily shaken.
The trail to Codfish Falls follows the American River for a few miles, ending at a dramatic 40 foot waterfall.
Along the way, as I navigate the twisting path–avoiding steep drop-offs to the river below–there is no evidence, no sound or sign, until the very last turn, that the path leads to anywhere I hope to be. But I don’t turn back.
Sometimes the path is the point
The Hundred Acre Cove–a New England bird sanctuary, an estuary wound with trails and wooden bridges. As soon as my children walked, the cove became a favorite adventure. Each child in turn proudly led the way–fighting back brambles and branches in seasons of unrestrained growth, eyes searching for remembered landmarks.
Some paths were easy–mower-cut swaths through meadow grass, the blue water orienting. But fainter paths often lured into dead ends, impassable swamps. We turned back, unconcerned–the following, not the ending, was the point.
You are here •
Does the metaphor hit home? Behind you is the broad road, trampled and known. Ahead is a path of sorts. Untamed, twisting, from here you can’t tell–will it open to breath-taking landscapes, or abruptly end? You look down and find your feet committed to what your heart still fears.
My feet are there too.
But I’ve forgotten the lessons of cove and codfish and am obsessed with the end. I want to know why, when and where the path will finish. I want clear reasons why the familiar must be abandoned, and a detailed map of what is ahead.
I share this with God, and he just smiles…
Are you being led into unknown territory? Are you exhilarated or afraid?
11 replies on “Following A New Path”
Afraid, frustrated, wishing I was in control of the outcome! Thanks for the new perspective.
Yes, sometimes we also want to wield the machete and make the path!
Fearful and anxious… not only for my path, but also for those traveling alongside me. I want to know the end – what will it look like, how hard is the trail and how long will it take? Hard to trust for each step.
Life’s trails don’t post a “level of difficulty” number, do they?
Afraid, frustrated, tired… the path seems never ending. Oh! but I know it will and there I will rest!
Betty,
I pray for restful shelter along the way!
I’m being led into many new areas of unknown territory. I don’t feel afraid because I know after all I’ve been through, God’s sovereign and always faithful. I feel exhilarated and I’m learning to give God my control anew each day so I can be free…
I hear the dance behind the words, Dawn! He is faithful!
Yes very….
I am reminded of a great sermon from years past. It is titled ” Streaking to Ithaca”
The point being that all you have when you get there is Ithaca and you have missed the most important true which is the journey.
Maybe that is why I love taking back roads where the journey is exciting because I don’t know where I might end up. That concept has helped me learn to rely on God to walk with me on the journey, to trusy Him to show me the path to take when I come to a cross road.
Thank you for your blogs Janet. Theyntouch my heart & make me really think.
Thanks, Cretia. You model “backroads” living!