A Parting of Ways

Sometimes the time comes to take the road less traveled by.  In this case, as I reflect upon the significance of today's date—a significance merely personal with little exception—I find myself ever more aware of the threads of the past leading into the present.  For eight years ago today a new-found friend and I drew from the dry pages of history an idea of fresh and exciting proportions with life-altering fruits.  Some might have called us fools for leaving behind a stable and secure life to make a pilgrimage on foot from church to church, accepting whatever Providence should grant us along the way, praying with each mile forward toward a known destination and unknown end.  Well we were fools—fools for Christ.

I reflect upon these matters today partly because I cannot help but do so.  No matter how much I have at times tried to forget things past and not to speak of them, I know that I do not forget; perhaps this is merely human, or perhaps it is the fruit of my personality, which desires—and requires—permanence.  In any case, the shadow of the past falls still upon the present with all its goods and ills.

The other day, as I spoke with a dear friend, sharing with her how my Lord had been working through my life, I realized an important truth about the past: I must speak in order to remember.  Although I cannot truly forget, I can let things slide into a sort of apathetic knowledge taken for granted.  If, on the other hand, I boldly proclaim what I have learned in this earthly pilgrimage, I accept for myself again and again the good that has been given, and perhaps may even shed some glimmer of light into the darkness of a fellow traveler's path.

To that end, I have decided—hesitantly at first—that I must share some more spiritual ponderings with those who care to read.  I tend to think of such things as being very personal and meant to be treasured closely in one's heart.  There is a certain amount of truth to that view certainly, but it leaves aside a greater truth: that what is given to us is often meant to be shared that it may grow and increase, like the Gospel parable of the talents.  What I give to others, I often have in greater degree for myself as well.  When I give freely, I let my Lord bless what I offer and multiply it—in this way my life becomes fruitful.

Since the spiritual journey has more direction than mere jibbooms and bobstays, I will keep these two continuing as separate threads.  Here I will continue with the randomness and spontaneity originally intended, as time and grey matter allow.  If you wish to follow my other journey, you will find that thread here.