There
are times in life where the path divides. One goes to the left and is wide.
Friends can walk together side by side, laughing and holding hands, telling
jokes and dancing. They are together. The other, to the right, is obscured with
overhanging bushes and thorns and the path is barely wide enough for one person
to place foot in front of the other, much less allow two people to skip along
side by side. It is a lonely path.
The
left beckons to us, promising false security in riches and popularity and
darkness. The right doesn’t look pleasant at all, but we know that it’s the
right one to choose…because we know what lies at the end of each of the paths.
So
we gather our hiking stick and step off to the right, leaving behind a
multitude waiting in line for the left path. They call out to us, warning us,
laughing at us, pointing at us. They don’t understand why we’d choose such a
narrow, seemingly lonely path.
We
step onto the path and as we continue, their laughs fade. But as we trek
further away we begin to understand why they didn’t understand—in fact, we begin
to doubt our choice.
Prayer
meetings on Tuesday mornings consist of ourselves and God. Nobody else shows
up. We always encourage but are never encouraged. We comfort but are not
comforted. We listen but are not listened to. We show hospitality but are never
cared for. We invite but are never invited. We remember others but are
forgotten.
And
thus it is sometimes easier to languish on the forest floor, with our feet
hanging off the edge of the path and our backs pressed against the hard-packed
earthen wall.
Though
we have the Creator of the universe on our side, there is still a very human
pang buried somewhere in our hearts that comes out once in a while when we fall
and nobody is around to lift us up.
We
carry this burden around within us, sealing it up beneath a façade of happiness
and peace and hope—which we might very well have, as we should, being Whose we
are—but we hide this hurting part of us lest somebody see and only cause the
pain to spread. We find it easier to not let on than to express, but every day
our heart is breaking from the heaviness upon it due to lack of iron to sharpen
against (Proverbs 27:17).
Sometimes
we need somebody to tell us who we are—not to read it or see it or hear it in a
sermon, but for somebody to tell us individually how unique, dearly loved,
chosen, accepted, and seen we are. It’s one thing to tell others this Truth,
but it’s another (just as necessary) to be told.
This
time of hurt is not in vain, dear one. There are lonely path days when we walk
hand in hand with God. There are not so lonely path days when we walk hand in
hand with God. A beautiful part about being a disciple of Jesus Christ is that
we are never alone. We have a Friend, a Father, a Helper, a Redeemer, a Savior.
But
there are still those lonely path days when the going is dark. Do not lose
heart, chosen child of God. He has a plan far greater than we shall ever be
able to understand (at least on this Earth). These walks of loneliness are sharpening
us in lieu of having other iron to sharpen against. They are preparing us to
see the lonely. They are preparing us to love fiercely with God’s Love. They
are preparing us to be steadfast and loyal and to never give up. They are
preparing us to be better, purer, set-apart vessels to carry the Gospel to the
deepest, darkest, dankest places of this world because we have a flame that has
not let up its flickering, but has grown into a blaze as we’ve tended it along
the path, hand in hand with God.
Being
a disciple is difficult, but it is rewarding.
And
then…there are voices ahead on the path. We’ve come across fellow disciples
running the race! We link hands and help each other along the path, lifting
each other, praying, encouraging, comforting, listening, speaking life and
truth and joy into each other’s lives as we trek. We have found fellowship. We
have found iron.
So
press on. The times spent seeking God on a lonely path do not go unnoticed by
your Creator. He is preparing you. He is strengthening you in your weakness.
Continue being faithful. Continue encouraging and listening and comforting and
loving. Continue reaching out.
You
are loved. You are seen. You are chosen. You are made for a purpose that goes
beyond your wildest imagination. You are created for a mission. You are
accepted. You are rejoiced over. You are the apple of His eye. You are a son.
You are a daughter. You are a child of God. You are made righteous. You are
beautiful. You are fearfully and wonderfully made.
You
are so very beloved by Yahweh.
11:13.
I’m sitting in my grandma’s kitchen, in a little corner at a table with a
beautiful Christmas tablecloth and my dorm room tree in the center of it. The
snow is waltzing circles out the window, Josh Garrels is making merry on Spotify,
and Grandma is chopping potatoes for lunch. 
