Like thousands (maybe millions) of other people on Thanksgiving, I wanted to get a workout in before I enjoyed our family meal. Thus, I headed straight to a nearby hiking trail that circles a local reservoir.
The sun was shining bright enough to make the fall morning feel more like a spring day. As I wound my car through the street leading up to the trail, it was obvious that I wasn’t the only one hoping to burn a few calories before settling in for some seasonal favorites. Families were out in droves. There were strollers with newborns intertwined with leashes for furry family members. Groups of teens gathered in their brooding sullenness while younger kids darted to and from with a watchful eye from a nearby adult family member.
Since being over 40 years old comes with sore hips and knees, I took my time to stretch before cranking up my music, signaling to my fitness app that I was beginning an outdoor workout and starting on my way.
I have visited this trail several times and have always stayed on the paved portion but as my hike progressed, I saw something I had never seen before. There were dirt trails that stemmed off the paved path.
One of these trails was a steep hill, so steep that I couldn’t see what was over the horizon. For a hot second, I felt compelled to tackle the hill. It would be a challenge where I would huff and puff while making my heart rate soar. But before I could even make my way to the path, my inner monologue began reasoning away the challenge because I didn’t know where the path led or what awaited me on the other side of the hill. Would there be another hill worse than the first one? Would I get lost? How would I know where to go or if it would bring me back to the safe, chosen route that I was used to hiking?
I shook my head, ignored the challenge, and kept walking on the safe, paved path I was familiar with.
Soon after, I came upon another dirt path. Instead of a steep hill, it was flat and curved around a bend in the trees. Again, I looked at it and wondered where it was headed. I saw one person walking on it but no one else paid it any attention. I shrugged and decided to stay on the paved road I was accustomed to. I reasoned away the possibility of seeing a different area and kept moving in my original direction.
As I ignored the two attempts to take the less-traveled paths, I felt a slight conviction. Why was I so averse to taking the different paths? Ignoring the unknown and staying on the presumably safer route meant I was missing out on a new opportunity. Was this reflective of my ability to trust God? What else have I missed out on in my effort to be comfortable? Who am I when things get hard? Do I always resist and go for the safer route?
In my spirit, I felt a stirring where God whispered about how He may present me with paths that seem difficult, and I may not be able to see where they lead, but I’ll have to trust Him above all else. With the specific dreams and goals He has placed in my heart, instead of staying on the paved road I’ve traveled many times before, I’ll have to trust His leading, His prompting, and especially His guidance on the unknown paths. I can’t lean on my own understanding. I’ll have to surrender my desire to know what each step looks like and trust that even when it gets hard, He has given me provision for the vision.
Who are you when things get hard?
Dear Father, thank you for being my guide. You are my sun and my shield. Please forgive me for the times when I have not trusted you enough to follow the path you have laid out for me but chosen my own instead. Holy Spirit, empower me to follow where you lead, even when it looks hard. I desire to be led by you instead of my fears or selfish ambition. Thank you for your provision in the hard. Amen.
