Day 1:
It is God who directs my steps
A man’s heart plans his way, But the Lord directs his steps. (Proverbs 16:9)
The path of the righteous is like the morning sun, shining ever brighter till the full light of day (Proverbs 4:18)
With my jam-packed schedule that day, I had decided to park my car in the church parking lot and walk the rest of the way so I could squeeze in my morning walk while running a pressing errand.
Following the sidewalk, I made my way past a small cross-street and up the gradually sloping road towards my destination. As I neared the crest of the hill, I realize I could no longer see any trace of a sidewalk.
Slightly alarmed that I would have to hug the edge of the street to navigate the increasing traffic, I questioned whether I had made a prudent decision to make the trek instead of driving. Then suddenly, at the top of the incline, the road levelled off, and I spied a small patch of sidewalk that allowed me to continue my path.
I thought of all the major decisions I had been confronting, and how I had come to the end of my own wisdom in navigating the next turns. And I was reminded that even though I may not always see the path clearly, I have a God who goes before me, illuminating the path "ever brighter till the full light of day." I pray for the wisdom and the courage to take "the path of the righteous."
As I reflected on the experience, the delightful children's poem, "Where the Sidewalk Ends," by Shel Silverstein, came to mind: "There is a place where the sidewalk ends...And there the sun burns crimson bright..."
And I realized that whether the sidewalk ends, or continues to wend, I need only watch for "the chalk-white arrows" of God's direction as I take each next step.
Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends.
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