Gravel Road

The apostle Paul talks about our years on earth as a race to be run. I have to wonder if this race (which I think of as requiring top-notch Nike running shoes) can also figuratively include barefooted tip-toeing on sharp gravel. That’s where I seem to be right now: slowly inching along, building new calluses on the soft, tender arch-parts. This is a humbling and challenging, as well as character-building, journey.

It’s easy to want to emulate seemingly aggressive, assertive, decisive, focused runners intent on conquering the miles; people who seem goal-driven and achievement-oriented. But some people also run their races as introspective/creative/thoughtful/expressive types with chicken gizzard hearts-and-souls who peck at stone-cold-insights along the way, accumulating them as useful tools for the daily grind. That’s currently my style.

Jean Watson’s new CD (which includes my partial contribution of a few lyrics for one song) is entitled “Everything Can Change.” I’ve listened to it repeatedly, and although I have a hard time hearing the actual lyrics, I find much of the music subliminally inspiring. It directs me from the smooth interstate highway to exit ramp I kick off the Nikes, ignore the padded fleece house slippers offered as a comfy option, and head with bare feet toward a slower gravel road where, “When I call upon Your Name, everything can change.” Here, skin-to-stone with harsh realities, I find I must depend on the Lord. Here I don’t have the luxury of pushing or hurrying or making things happen.

There’s gravel underfoot. I’ve been watching my mind-set wrestle with change out of necessity as I think back on what I did today: enjoyed a delightful mug of chai at Decatur Daily Grind with Emily; swam with her family in the lake; laughed out loud; played Euchre without little fingers. Also what I wasn’t able to do today: participate in one-on-one grandkid conversation too high-pitched to hear; bake yeast rolls for said grandkids; ignore pain/loss/fear/incapacity; keep a stiff upper lip. And lastly, what I need to remember to do tomorrow: focus outside myself; trust God; ask others for help; appreciate, accept and expect like a child.

The times, they are a-changin’ here on this dusty, narrow, scenic, inspiring gravel road that promises to transform me – if I let it.