The pathway stretches in front of me as far as I can see…clear cut through the forest, then through a field.  Soon a boardwalk bridge carries me quickly over an inlet of the Bay of Fundy, and up a dune where the view is breathtaking. Onward I march with my head held high, breathing in the crisp, ocean-scented air while enjoying the beautiful scenery around me. What a lovely walking trail…

So unlike the one I’m on now.

Downhill for 30 minutes, with another 30 minutes to go. You’d think I’d be walking on air, because downhill is so easy, right?

Wrong.

Downhill (we’ll talk about uphill some other time, ok?) is so…dangerous. It’s tedious. It takes the constant thought that where I place my next step determines my destiny on the trail…and my physical well-being.

It just rained, so all the leaves are slippery. Everywhere I look, roots are sticking out of the uneven ground.

Rocks appear in unlikely places, pointing their sharpest angle at my feet.

All of this abounds on a steep decline that refuses to bring relief.

Underneath those slippery leaves are small bogs of flooded mud that act like quicksand when stepped in. There’s no easy way out. I look to the right, then to the left, trying to decide in a split second which is the easiest quickest way out. When I lift one foot, the other foot sinks deeper into the mire.

Why, oh ,why did I stray from the path?

Wait….. I didn’t.

This IS the path.

Voices behind me remind me that I’m not alone on the trail. The others in the group are traveling at their own paces. Some have run ahead and out of sight. Some are behind me, taking it slowly. Some get stuck in the same bog I got stuck in. Remember those roots I told you about? My little friend just tripped on one of those. It sent her crashing to the ground. Now she’s walking with a sore ankle. And the path isn’t getting any easier. I feel the pain of my friends who are also on this trail with me. Thank goodness I’m following a guy in our group who has done this trail before; and as I go, he points out the snaggy places and helps me navigate around them.

I stop walking and look around at the brilliant colours of fall leaves-  some on the ground, some in mid-air on their way to the ground, and some still on the trees waiting for their appointed time of float. I sigh a little with the beauty of it all.

I realize that I’ve been so focused on my feet that I’m missing the scenery around me.

By necessity I drop my eyes to my feet again. Somehow, it’s a natural instinct.

The path is rough, and my eyes need to be on my feet.

This is the trail of trials.

God reminds us in Proverbs 4:26 to “Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established.”

The path of trials calls for diligence. Not only do we deal with the tedium and stress of a rough path; along the way we have an enemy who wants to make things even worse so that we give up.

Satan is waiting to trip our vulnerable hearts on a root of bitterness…on a rock of offence… in the mire of unforgiveness. 

My weary heart cries, “I just want to rest! This trail is longer than I thought it would be! And I’m missing the beautiful scenery because I have to stare at my feet!”

But this is the trail for now. This is the trial for now.

Sometimes during trials, life goes by. We grieve the missed moments.

But there is a greater lesson to be learned during times when burdens keep us from enjoying life with a light heart.

It’s the knowledge that we’re following Someone who has been down this trail (trial) before, and He will point out the snaggy places and will help me navigate them safely.

He’ll even take my hand and share His strength with me.

“For I the LORD thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee.” Isaiah 41:13

There it is~ the grace to walk a pathway rough.

Are you walking a rough path today? You don’t have to walk alone. 

With Grace,

Leah

(Analogy taken from an actual trail experience at Fundy National Park in Alma, New Brunswick)