Wrong Roads - Questioning God When Starting Over

I often wonder about the “wrong roads” in my life. Especially during times of struggle when I feel I am starting all over again. As I now turn around and make the long walk back to the fork in the road, the place I stood almost a decade ago, I slouch in shame. I look down the long traveled path I spent so long on and see it fade into the distance, a mirage as it were, disappearing into my past. With worn and tired feet I turn my dust crusted eyes to gaze down other paths not yet traveled.

When guidance was sought, the same decision of which path to go to be made, I thought I received divine guidance. I thought I knew the way. 

An incredible amount of energy is required to begin the path down a new trail of life. To do so when you realize the previous path came to an end can be insurmountable. I want my life to be one grand path. One that climbs ever upward, like climbing a mountain.  

Most climb worthy mountains begin steep and difficult. Until you reach the ridge line it is usually a muscle burning experience that leaves you shaking with exertion. Once you reach the main ridge of a peak the wind usually picks up and cools, the will to continue the climb renewed, exhilarating hope is imbued as the goal is within sight. New sights are seen and the way, though still steep, seems easier. We look back and see the progress. Every step of strength brings us closer to the goal. To be thrust back down the mountain once you have reached this point, to do this frequently as the years roll by, this can leave one questioning God. To walk back down the mountain of struggle and to begin anew makes one want to sit in their sorrow, never to gaze upward again. 

If all paths I take lead back to where I started then what is the point?
I question my ability to be guided. I question my ability to be led by the Spirit of God. 

I have had small glimpses of possible answers to the agony but none as profound as this:

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So here I stand, back where I began so many times before. With strengthened purpose I hope to begin anew. On the way back down a literal mountain this past summer, almost at the end of an amazing backpacking trip, I gazed upward and saw this tree. 

I had to take the picture. This is not a black and white. The lighting and approaching storm give off the monochrome coloring. What made this tree become what it is now? Why so many branches sprawled outward, seemingly going nowhere? The tree, now dead, provides some silent answers. A straight lodge pole trunk with no branches would make for a useless tree. With its only purpose being that of lumber, no use while it is alive.

It is in the branches that nests are made, new life springing forth, shelter is taken from approaching storms, and seeds are sprung. It is from the branches that the sun is absorbed and the roots are strengthened. My favorite sound as a child was that of the wind rustling through the mighty mountain pine trees. The needles provided a music that warmed my soul. The branches, the forks in the tree’s growth, bring strength, life, and joy. It is impossible for us to grow straight without branching off. The forks in our lives are where we truly grow and as we grow outward in seemingly pointless spurts we will finally one day look below. We will see that with the outward growth into what we believe to be dead ends, we find that we have also grown upwards.

So to journey anew I begin, a path untraveled to tread.  I believe I have finally understood that the inspiration is not so much which fork in the path to go, but the inspiration is that I GO, onward. Onward and upward.

 -The Feeble Soul

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