The Long Way Home

by: Marianne Coyne

Two weeks ago I decided to start walking. I'm not a fan of exercise for the most part, but walking is something I can actually do without feeling like I'm torturing myself. I like the distraction of the chirping birds, the sound of the breeze in the trees, and the cool air caressing and encouraging me along. Since I had been sedentary for most of the past summer and autumn, I thought walking would be a good way to build up my depleting stamina and muscle tone. So off I ventured with vim and confidence into the fond world of mazes called the "subdivision". I even decided to explore parts of the new neighborhood I hadn't in previous walking ventures. On my return home I was thrilled and proud of myself to discover I had walked for forty-five minutes the first day (It doesn't take much to thrill me). I was on my way to better health!

On the third day, however, while returning home, my confidence level and rare sense of adventure tempted me to try a different road. It seemed logical to me that it would take me to my destination, until I realized that I was headed in the opposite direction. I decided not to worry (another rare moment). I'll just turn here and I'll be back on the right track. I couldn't have been more wrong. I ended up in a maze of winding streets, most of which were labeled "no outlet". I walked and walked, trying my best to keep my composure, but to no avail; each street I turned down seemed to mock my efforts. My body was "telling" me it was long past my forty-five minute jaunt. I was tired, thirst began to rear it's nagging head, and I had not a hint of being closer to home. At this point I started to - how should I say this; oh yes – panic! "I don't know where I am", I let out in a voice of despair. Then I caught hold of myself and said, "You don't know where you are, but God does, and so does that vulture flying overhead". And for some bizarre reason it comforted me to know that Someone and something could see the bigger picture that was hidden from me. Pulling on that strength, and walking a bit longer, I finally came full circle to the street which led home. As I approached my destination I was tempted to look back - and I thought, "No, don't be like the Israelites in the desert. Don't look back. Just keep looking forward".

As I walked in faith that day, I was reminded how similar my situation was to Life. Walking along our merry way through life we may become over confident with ourselves and take a wrong "turn"; or perhaps we decide to take a risk we normally would never take, only to find ourselves on an unknown path which seems to take us farther and farther from our original purpose and perfect goal. Our own recovery efforts seem to fail, leaving us with the "I don't know where I am" sick feeling in the pit of our being. But God always knows where we are. He never loses sight of us or our purpose in life. He's patient enough to wait for us to reach out to Him, and loving enough not to gloat over us in our eventual humbled state. Once we remember that and make the decision to call upon Him, He is more than able to put us back on the right path. We may be worn out from the ill-guided journey, but even in that, our beloved Father is able to renew us back to strength and confidence; a confidence in ourselves through Him. Though once we're returned onto the right path in life, we mustn't keep looking back. Let's just be aware we've come a long way without the temptation to turn our heads. Keep looking ahead.

Now when I walk, I think of it as I would life's journey. I don't look back to see how far I've come, (at least not more than once), and I don't look too far up the road that I become overwhelmed. I just look far enough ahead where I'm still in the present. It keeps up my stamina and it's so much healthier in every way. Oh, and if I decide to be a little adventurous, I read the signs more carefully before turning down an unknown road, and I make sure I take along my Supreme Compass.

Copyright©2008Marianne Coyne