The well worn path wears me. Two gravel lines, patchy with crab grass, offer little beauty. Steadiness perhaps … solid, guidance, understated … but I don’t see any of it. “Let’s go on the trail mommy!” my youngest bursts to a sprint up the nearby hill of shrubs along the lakeshore. The moment I step into the wooded trail, a sigh escapes releasing tension I was unaware I held.
Nearly a different world, this tiny trail – a grown over windrow of gravel – secludes a view of the foggy lake, glassy water bulbs on tender leaves, gnarled poplar roots. I can peek through these young trees at the parallel driving path we left behind. Perspective. Changing perspective can change my life.
Today I begin a journey of a thousand steps; one of open eyes, of gratitude. Ann Voskamps “One Thousand Gifts”, a fabulously written work about the language of thankfulness, has inspired me to also pen gratitude into joy and fullness of life; worship.
How appropriate then that this journey begins with two trails diverged. One heavily trodden, straightforward, common. The other hidden from sight, yet lush; a rich oasis to discover.
.
