A Walk Through The Woods

My legs were stinging from walking through sticky weeds that made minuscule lacerations on my skin. My hiking boots were soaked as well, yet a walk through the pines had been worth the discomfort I was now feeling as I walked towards the clearing out of the woods. 

Sanna was with me and for the most part we had been walking in silence, as I had things to think and pray about and weeds to walk through. I had not been oblivious to the way the sun shown through the woods as we had ventured the oft walked path of my childhood, nor had I not stopped to take notice of the black caps that dotted the bushes in scattered clumps alongside the road. 

Yet my heart was preoccupied with the somber attitude it often takes when there are things to figure out and not many seen solutions to those things besides waiting. 

Waiting.

And then we came out into the clearing and I saw the landscape of virescent hills and felt the summer wind blow my humid curls off my neck—somethings never change. The landscape is almost the same as I have always known it, yet I am not. How odd it is to go back to a place that is unchanged and marvel at what has happened within yourself. 

Suddenly overcome with gratitude, I drew Sanna in for a hug, because life could use more hugs and grand sceneries are best taken in with love. We stood there, letting the wind refresh us. 

I wanted Sanna to remember it. Because I have memories of standing there, triumphant in Springtime after an early morning run, defeated by an icy Winter blast of hail and snow, exhilarated by strong Summer gusts that swept us off our feet, and finally, humbled by the blanket of Autumn and her overwhelming colors. 

I saw the field of queen ann’s lace that I had traversed through with Holly in years past, and the trail to Toad Lane which has been run on, biked on, and walked on as many times as fireflies sparkle in summer fields. 

Yet not even nature stays the same. There may come a day when that landscape no longer looks that way. My hope can’t be founded on the amazing display of creation that I took in at that moment. I can’t say, “Everything shall be well because, if all else fails, this one place will always be the same.” It won’t. It simply doesn’t work that way.

My childhood may be rooted in those trees and hills, yet my identity goes deeper than that. 

We turned back into the woods to head back to the house. I began to sing “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness, I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus’ Name.” There’s something about singing that lifts my heart and head higher, it takes my mind somewhere beyond myself and sets it above this earth. Thankfully, my eyes were still looking in front of me, because all of the sudden we stumbled upon the littlest and sweetest spotted red eft. So as to keep with tradition, we saw the little thing safely across the road. All creatures great and small.

Farther down the road, we found another, even brighter, red eft. This one had a fat belly and didn’t really fit on the leaf that we used to transport it, yet we accomplished the mission regardless. I do not understand how it works, but singing, walking, sunshine, and hugs (and red efts) always work so well to turn my mind around. 

Here is love: wait on the Lord.

And waiting doesn’t mean sitting around doing nothing. Waiting means preparation. And preparation means trust. Trusting that what you’re doing is for a purpose and is worthy of all your attention and heart right now: not later, now. 

Jesus calls us to live with eternity in mind, and that means preparing ourselves for eternity whilst we wait for it’s arrival. The exciting thing is that eternity is already here, it’s in our hearts, and so really, we only await the unseen becoming seen and the transient becoming permanent. That’s a glorious hope. 

Wherever you may be, look up and see that the Lord is good. He will never change, He is our hope, and He is worth waiting for.
And recognize that the waiting can be exciting....besides, don't you want to live life like this little hay bale hopper?