The Journey

In the summer of 2009, God set my feet on a path. It was like a wide country road, with trees on one side and fields on the other; remote and empty but not at all lonely. It felt breezy and sunny, with just the suggestion of a destination down the line, but no rush to get there. A slow, easy summer stroll.

I told Andy about it, and he stepped on the path alongside me.

And then fall came.

And then winter.

And through my days, God occasionally reminded me of the path. He gently suggested that I might want to move a little faster. That I might want to reach the destination sooner than my current pace would allow. I wasn’t sure. Would Andy want to move faster? And what about the boys? They don’t even know we’re on this path.

Spring arrived.

I kept my leisurely pace.

God’s gentle suggestions lost their subtlety. His breezy whispers became gusts at my back.

On April 25, 2010, a lightning bolt struck my heart, and I knew that I had waited too long. I was being disobedient to God, languishing along this easy stretch of road.

Still, I did nothing. I hid behind my doubt. Someone slid out of the trees, offered me an apple, and whispered lies to me. Andy won’t be ready for this. The boys won’t like it.

Summer again.

The path became more defined. There could be no doubt that this path was ours to take. The wind picked up and thunder rolled, urging me to hasten my steps.

I started to prepare for the journey, but still hesitated to go.

Finally, when I found myself without a shred of peace left in my heart, I spilled it all to Andy in a torrential downpour of tears. Before I could even get it all out, he was lacing up his running shoes.

Hand in hand, we took off without looking back. The silence and stillness of the beginning has evolved into music and motion.

Now our path feels like a race course. Our boys are running with us, excited about each completed step; anticipating the future. As we pass landmarks and checkpoints, we can see what is ahead. Many familiar faces have greeted us along the way, sharing wisdom and encouragement. We are grateful for every one of them.

Between us and the finish line, there lies a valley and a mountain. From here, there is no telling how deep the valley will be or how long it will take us to pass. And that mountain looks pretty high, but I’m not afraid to climb it.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.

Hebrews 12:1