Hiking Home

A chance to seize the day.  We strap on boots.  Take off on, Trail of Life. Not the easy road.
Away from city.
      Noise.
           …Suffocating places that drown the voice of God.

Head to wide open….. 
              Where He speaks through all creation.

Even the trees beckon…. 
               As they reach with limbs of yearning.

Calling through sunlight beaming.
               Evergreens stretching with arms wide open.
                          Hoping to touch Him also.

He is here….waiting to draw near to us in the silence.

No computer.
        No cellphones.
               No noise.

Just us & Him.  Alone. Entrenched in quiets embrace.

Switchbacks…..slowly making ground.

We follow trail…..like The Word.  

Knowing……..Paths of truth always leads us to our destination.

I recollect…..Younger years.  Darting arrogantly from path to path….thinking somehow quicker, more efficient to find short tracks…My own obscure truth. 

But now learning….There is nothing new under the sun. 

And the fast route….the easy route…Always calls to rebellious hearts…but never results in any good.

One foot in front of other, we roam.
             Heads up.
                        Eyes straight forward.
                                         Packing perpetually light.

And I remember an analogy from Sunday School…..

We all have backpacks. God wants us to empty ours, so that our trip can be light…not weighed down.  Freeing.
                Repentance. 

And we come to rivers edge….. 

Chrystal water sparkling with Heaven’s light.
      Rocks glimmering with reflected glory.
           Suns light penetrating the surface of our skin.  And we reach out for more.

Will we reach out for more….of Him?

All of creation crying for it’s maker.  As we breath in what seems to be the very breath of God.

Clean.
         Pure.
                Unadulterated.
                             Holy.

The river….Captivating. Calls out with a voice all it’s own.  Youngest one hears it’s cry and takes off her shoes.  Stepping down, sinking into its welcomed healing.

The Source.
              I keep thinking of the source.

How water does not think or plan or make it’s course.  It simply knows.  Move from the source….effortlessly….freely….to it’s destination.

The lowliest and lowest of locations.
             The easiest way.
                           As God’s hand almost visibly guides it surging strength.

Depths of bed, caressing.
              Like grace, making smooth places of what once were rough.
                            Flowing naturally, uncontrollably to the great wide open where waters gather.

Unrestrained oceans.

And I envy moving sounds before me.
            How effortlessly they travels. 
                    Moving freely, intentionally….like God intended for us to do.

And I long for my soul to flow as this river.  
             His love so fluid….liquid through my veins.
                       Gathering in the ocean’s soul.
                                     Rumbling to a heart so fueled with Him.

And I find….

More than water and rocks shout out His name.
But, trees, bend over to proclaim….

The story of The Savior. 

His sacrifice for us.

And we watch on hike’s walk to detect it.

The cross presented all around us.

Can we find it?

And it becomes like a game.
  Spotting love’s emblem.
    The fullness of His grace.

And we press on….Up switchbacks.
   Straight up.  The climb.
      And I wonder….

Why does the home stretch always measure our real strength?
Evidence heart’s true song?
Tests genuine character of our souls? 

A child passes us.  Running full force up the mountain’s trail. No hesitation. No restraint. 

And I envy her. 

We emerge from Forrest of Glory…….To cement roads with racing money buckets of metal flying past us….

And I see…

Master Craftsman much more glorious than man’s pathetic imitations.

And I am God struck. Weighed with sorrow to leave His wrappings of grace…..
      Creation crying out His name.  
             Magnificence so wonderfully portrayed.
                    Glory pouring out…

Into my soul with every step.

And yet, while heart heavy.  Steps reluctant.

Mind remembers….This place I go to.
      Foreign.
             Temporary.
                    Uncomfortable to enter….

Because creation is His masterpiece….And….

This world is not my home.

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23 Comments

  1. Beautiful as always…”His love is fluid…liquid through my veins”…I love this…I find myself when praying for the hurting…to ask His Liquid Love fill all those soul holes of the hurting….
    Blessings~

  2. Katie – Thanks.
    Irene – Not sure about magical…but glad they could bless you today.
    Ells – Yes. To fill those soul holes. ..the ones we don’t even know we have sometimes. Great prayer! Amen for liquid love! ~ jen

  3. Such a beautiful post, thank you for sharing. I came by earlier and neglected to leave a comment, but I left to listen to a new to me artist.. the one on your blog. Misty Edwards. I’ve cleaned my house to her music today.. simply touched. By her music and each of your beautiful post.

    Blessings,
    Misty

  4. Michelle – Thank you for reading.
    Misty – So glad the music could touch you. Misty Edwards is incredible, huh!! Plus, she has an pretty neat name! ;0)
    Judy from Jamaica – So glad you are following along. Thanks for coming by.

  5. So beautiful. Makes me want to head for an open space right now.

    “And I long for my soul to flow as this river. His love so fluid….liquid through my veins.”

  6. Just so beautiful!!!! I so wish we had mountains and hills in Florida! I miss them so much. One phrase stood out to me here “the fast route and the easy route. . .” So many times I’ve chosen that way, knowing deep within my heart it wasn’t THE way God meant for me. But I wanted to get there — wherever “there” was. I’ve learned long ago that it isn’t always the destination that’s important, but rather, it’s the journey, who we meet along the way, who might need our help, and what we learn from the long way. Thank you so much for the reminders. The pictures will forever be etched in my mind and heart!

  7. I love that cross in the trees and I’m also taking away with me the thoughts about the backpack. My shoulders, I think, are aching from carrying a bit too much…

  8. Creation is his masterpiece. This world is not our home. I love that. I love water. Many times I have longed to find a stream, to hear the sounds, and wish His love flowed through my veins like the waters of the streams. Living in the desert, waters are hard to find. But, this world is not our home and our refreshment comes from above! Beautiful

  9. HopeUnbroken – Thanks

    Trophy – Both you & I. Love how nature shouts out it’s Creator…so beautifully!

    Cora – Your words minister to me. Yes…the journey…not always the destination! You & I both the hard, wide route sister. Thankful for His redeeming grace that takes back all that the locus’ have stolen…and then some!! 🙂 Blessings my sister, jen

    Jen – Yes, the weight of our backpacks. Mine…emptied..then filled again…emptied etc etc. The journey of nothingness…a never ending battle I can so relate with.

    Shanda – Amen for our refreshment that comes from heaven…water…that never runs dry!

    Charlotte – Thanks for reading.

    ~ jen

  10. I like how even if I didn’t know where I was clicking, if I read your work, I know I would be reading you!

    On a side note: my daughter has those shoes…love them.

  11. I feel like I’ve been refreshed just reading about your refreshment. “Rumbling to a heart so fueled with Him”–love that–and want God’s love filling me.

    Blessings,
    Pamela

  12. Pamela – Thanks for the comment. Yes, refresh to refresh…The God filling we all need. So glad this post could bless you today. ~ jen

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