Longing for the Old Road
The title is pretty straightforward. Sometimes I find myself
just wishing I was on an old familiar road, or just a different road altogether.
This semester of college has often felt that way. I’ve felt a tension between
struggling to be present, wishing I was back in Texas, wishing that college was
the same as it was in undergrad, missing various far-away friends, and only a
small portion of the time thankful for the present.
I was reading a short post about Laura Story (a songwriter) that
shared my sentiment.
Everything radically
changed after her husband was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Watching him
struggle to breathe and withstand significant memory loss, Laura begged God to
heal her husband and restore their lives to the way they were.
Life hadn’t been
perfect, but it had been good.
Laura told her sister
of her desire to return to the normal trial-free life she had before. And her
sister insightfully responded, “You know Laura, I think the detour you are on
is actually the road.”
What if the detour is
actually the road? Hmm…
That statement rarely, if ever, crosses my mind. My thoughts
go something more like this: Just gotta keep walking and push through, the
other road is up ahead…. This is just a temporary thing…. Just one more turn
and around the corner will be what I’m looking for….
What a faithless and fruitless way to live.
As I look back on my past semester, I see a little girl
thinking that she knows best where the path should be. Instead of trusting the
good Father who has carefully and thoughtfully paved the path, she just walks
along constantly discontent and telling him where she thinks it should lead.
(Picture some prospective homeowners walking through a house
and pointing around while they make suggestions for how they can change it for
the better)
“Now, if we move this bush and this rock, we can build the
path through here and… ah, yes, then it can wind through her and connect back
to where I wanted to go in the first place.”
But as I walk through, just straining to see what I wish was
in front of me, God patiently walks along with me. Then he gently whispers, “Be
still and know that I am God.”
My face becomes flushed… I am immediately convicted and
embarrassed at my self-righteousness.
Once the shock settles, I begin to look around and think to
myself:
“Hey, I never noticed those flowers over there before… and
wow, the stones lining the path that I’ve always wanted to move make it look so
beautiful… and check out all of these people I’ve been meeting along the way…”
I think that’s the part of this little illustration that I’m
presently at. I’m looking around and simultaneously repenting and praising.
Who knows how the rest of the story will go. I could stop
and appreciate the detour but again return to anxious thoughts and plans and
just continue to see it as that, a detour.
Or I could recognize that it is the road and mourn all of my wishes for how it
looked. Or I could rebel and begin to just plow through the unpaved brush,
hoping that if I just push my way through enough that I’ll get to where I want
to be. Or I could praise God that he knows more and ask him for the strength
and faith to walk this new road and rejoice…
(I’m really hoping for the latter response)
Lord,
Thank you for your presence. I confess that my pride often
leads to discontentment by causing me to believe that I know better. But you
lovingly remind me that “Your thoughts are not my thoughts nor are your ways my
ways.” I have no clue what I’m doing. Please help me to long for a changed heart
instead of changed circumstances. You are with me and I trust you. Thanks for
loving me first.
