Life's a Climb, but the View is Great

I took a hike this past Thursday. Not a true mountainous hike, but one through the hilly woods of a nearby county park.
And it was glorious.
When I paused long enough to look around and see all there was to see.
My two new hips are still that--brand new. I want to keep as much mileage as possible on them. And I so, so didn't want to trip and fall or pull something. I just wanted to be out in nature, soaking up the stillness, the sunshine and letting my heart breathe in the swift work God did just in that day alone. Not to mention the last year. I'll leave it at this: He provided. And He was not late.

Still getting used to walking without a hint of a limp for the first time in twelve years means I kept my eyes on the dirt path in front of me. Practically the entire time. Breathing well, occasionally biting my lip stepping around thorny bushes or treading carefully over ruts and roots and fallen trees.
I don't want to fall.
Who likes falling? Who enjoys getting hurt, having hopes deferred? Detours?
Anyone?
No matter how laser-focused we keep to the path set before us, there will be muddy patches. Deep ruts that trip us up. Surprise detours that lead equally daunting ways. And no matter how closely we keep our eyes on the path--we won't ever get it perfect. Not on our own.
I almost picked up a walking stick to use on my hike the other day. But then I remembered I didn't need it anymore. But it could've helped me slow my pace, be a good support to further prevent a potential fall, and therefore enable me to walk with my head up, not just gazing down at the path.
But I soldiered on, enjoying the burning in my lungs, the breeze in my face and the sunshine at my back.
How often do we do that in life?
We edge away from our Father God, let go of His hand, even, and go "I got this."
And He just smiles and keeps on staying steady-on thinking, "Oh ye of little faith. If you only could look up and see Me and all I have for you."
When I decided to turn around and backtrack towards the hill that led up to the pavillion where I parked, I took the route back a little slower. Pausing now and again to snap a few photos of the glorious woods, and lower my head into my hands and go "Wow that was fast, God."
When the days/weeks/okay, months previous I had been wanting to kick something every other hour some days going, "How long, oh Lord?! Come on!"
And on that still, breathtaking walk in the woods, when I took the time to look up from the path, take a break and just breathe--I heard Him.
This life is not our home. The road gets messy. It hurts. And often.
All else but God.
This last year I had a lot, (not everything or everyone), but a lot stripped away. And I will never not have questions. But in the grand, eternal scheme of things--they don't matter. It's when I keep too focused with my oft-near sighted soul that the tremendous truths of God's immensely detailed and perfect plan, His never-late but seldom early ideal timing, I miss.

God knows when every single leaf falls in the woods. How much more does He care for us, made in His image? And just think of the care He takes in establishing our roots, enabling us to grow? He so longs for us--me--to take joy in the journey. To look up, thank Him, and keep going with a heart more full of faith, hope and love.
And that is what I learned on my hike last week. Hearkening to mind the words of Paul from the book of Ephesians:
And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.
Ephesians 3:17-21
Meghan M. Gorecki
Meghan M. Gorecki

Words, history, and grace color my days here in The Burgh where I seek out the perfect coffee and red lipstick.