The path became familiar. I smelled the breeze. It was familiar too. I wanted to go back and as I turned the curve and reached the top of the hill that fixed my eyes on the bottom land that would lead me to my final destination, I went back. The hat I wore was the same. I recalled a bicycle wreck that I had as a child going down this hill because of the orange hat that I wore. The wind had caught it and as I tried to pull it back, I lost control and wrecked. That was the same hill. As I approached the bottom land I saw that the river was high - or had been. Part of the road was covered with water. I knew I would find a way to cross it. I went as far as I could before the water had completely covered the road. There was no where to cross. I looked for a log to make a bridge. There wasn't one to be found. So I looked to the other side.
Maybe I can cross over there if I go through the woods a little. I tried. Nope. Why didn't I wear rubber boots? No wonder they were my favorite childhood shoe. I had walked all that way. I couldn't go back now. What would I do? I looked down at my feet and decided the only thing that I could do was take off my shoes and socks and walk through the water and mud. Fears - they were present. What if there are snakes? What if there are sticks that will cut my feet? Glass? Barbed wire?? Fishing hooks? Cuckobears?
STOP. Just do it.
I cautiously stepped into the water that lay before me and surprisingly - it felt good. Relief. My senses were alive as the mud squished between my toes. Forget the nail polish. I am not sure what I was walking in but it didn't matter. I was going to cross. The water was slightly warm in some spots as it was a sunny day. I smelt the mud in the air. The soft bed of leaves and grass that were beneath my feet felt good too! I wadded through the water with caution; not knowing how deep the water was in places. I looked for places where grass peaked through the water to gauge the depth. I pressed on. Before I knew it, I was to the other side and there it was. The River. The place where I wasn't supposed to go as a child. Yet, a place that I went anyway.
What is that place for you?
You know we have been called and created to be something greater than we could ever imagine. I can't explain it because is too great to fathom. I am learning that most of us are afraid to do what we have been called to do. We are too fearful to put our feet in mud - to experience the fullness of the life we have been given. We stay close to home in our safety net with our shoes and socks on - crew ones at that - rather than jumping out into this life that is unknown. Yet, I think we have been called to jump out. We are called to GO. We are called to embrace who it is that we have been created to be.
Unfortunately we are most often too scared to figure out just exactly who we are. We are too timid. We stay comfortable in what is known and what is expected and we miss the excitement that is in store for us. Faith requires action, you know? It requires TRYING. I am so guilty of not trying at times. I doubt. I question. I do not trust. I ask myself if what I am doing is valid. Is it valued? Well it most certainly is if it is what I have been called to do. I want to experience the fullness of this life that I have been given. I know I am being led. I know that even if I do fail at times, it is all part of the process. The process that will make me. I will just get up and continue to follow. In my human nature I fear, but in faith, I can trust. I pray that I will go where I am led so that I may experience the life that I have been called to live to the fullest because I am not my own.
If that isn't the good news, I don't know what is!
I think that I should put my feet in mud at least once a week.
And now I know why Mr. Benson said to go jump in the Mississippi River. I just think that the Forked Deer is better.